Letters from a Father
by Nerdymum
Summary: While sorting through mementos he plans to pass on to his children, Kolyat reads a journal written by his father to him recounting the life of the assassin as only Thane himself could tell it. Rate M for adult situations. All recognizable names, places, and species are sole property of BioWare. OC's within the story are property of the author unless noted otherwise.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Kolyat Krios sat at his desk and carefully leafed through the black leather-bound book. It was, for all intents and purposes, pointless to read due to the fact he remembered every single word on each page, but to see the beautifully scripted letters in their glory meant so much more than any memory he could pull from his mind. Each page, which had been catalogued in chronological order, told of separate events, and through the gallantly scrolling words he could see them come to life. The book was his only way of keeping in touch with him now. It was the only way he could still speak to him.

Gods, how easy it was to hear his soft, dark voice coming through each turn of the pages! If Kolyat closed his eyes he would've sworn on every drop of his blood that his father was in the room with him. In fact, he let his grey-teal eyes flutter shut for a moment, just to imagine him there. He allowed the memories to take over the silence of his office.

The room began to transform into the small, shared apartment which overlooked the Presidium gardens. He smelled the rich, minty herbal scent of the medicinal tisane which was consumed several times a day. He heard the faint rattling in the weakened lungs as a cough was suppressed. The sound of the nearby leather armchair creaked beneath the weight of its owner. Two spring-green hands held in their grasp the notepad which would be used to retell the events of a life lived within walls of shadows and heartache.

When he reopened his eyes he looked back down at the book and tried to hold back his tears. He had a few other things passed down to him; custom weapons, a jeweled dagger which was favored and considered a "lucky charm", a closet full of thick leather stealth suits; but none of them represented his father more than the book of letters.

He missed him desperately.

The decision to pass the book on to his eldest son was a silent battle he had been fighting for some time. In truth, he didn't want to part with his father's words to him, but he knew out of all three of his children Deylos would appreciate it the most. A light smile touched his face as he began to reread the first letter and, once again, he could hear Thane's voice dictating to him…

O . . . O . . . O

My Dearest Son Kolyat,

I have decided that my past need not be a secret from you for fear that it will only continue to rot away my soul. As my only child, you have every right to know what kind of wretched existence I have attempted to live. And, while you may wish or not to listen to my story, I am offering you this as a way to beg for your pardon for forcing you to live many years feeling that I abandoned you.

Indeed, I did push you and your mother, the love of my life, away from me and did not realize that fact until it was too late. I should've been there to read you stories every night before you drifted off to sleep, or to embrace you before rushing off to school, or celebrate the passing of a test by 'dancing crazy' to your favorite songs. So much I regret and there are just too many to ever list without filling up volumes upon volumes of books. And, quite frankly, I don't believe my physical form would allow me enough time to do so.

If you choose to read what I am passing along to you I'll not ask you to view me as some kind of saintly figure. I only wish for you to know who I was; neither a great hero nor a sullied, unholy denizen. I am a man who has made many mistakes. Marrying your mother and having you were the only two events I consider my greatest accomplishments. The rest, if you read on, are simply cracks in my shell; great flaws and scars, and some will never be repaired but they are a part of me.

I remember waking up from the warm darkness to see the blurry figure looming above me. There was a soft scent of salt and soap in the air. I knew I was weak but that didn't stop me from trying to reach up high. My uncoordinated attempts did not go unwatched, for the image beyond my clear sight came closer. The blurred shape sharpened and I instantly fell into awe.

My mother was the first thing I ever saw. She picked me up and held me close to her breast, and the smell of salt became richer. Instantly, I felt the overwhelming sense of love.

As my thought process became stronger I came to recognize other important figures in my life; I met my elder brother Pallen. He often asked my mother if he could hold me, and he was always gentle. Pallen would sing me songs, play little games with my hands and feet, and made me little toys. He was my first friend and I adored him.

My father was a writer by trade; an astoundingly intelligent and inspiring man. Oftentimes I would crawl my way towards his desk, reaching out to tug at the hem of his pant leg. My body would be swept off the floor by his long-fingered hands, and I soon found myself gently plopped onto his knee to stare up at him. He had a narrow face and large eyes that always seem to see more than most. Perhaps I took that trait from him. He hummed while he wrote; nothing particularly discernible but it was always comforting to me.

The early years of my life were, for the most part, fairly uneventful. I was eager to go to school and experience the things that Pallen would relay to me. He volunteered himself as my mentor, told me how to make friends, which teachers were the friendliest and those who weren't. I took his advice to heart and was determined to be the best student the school had ever seen.

Aside from a couple other cousins whom I met during family visits I wasn't in contact with many other children. I wasn't aware with how cruel others could be. My first day of school proved that.

The school was so much bigger than I could've envisioned in my imagination or even through Pallen's descriptions. It was intimidating, daunting. I wasn't a large child by any means. I took after my father's lanky body type. I walked into the classroom, overrun by other children my age. Some were hyper and loud, dominating the activities, while others, much like me, were quiet and just as afraid.

I huddled into a corner and clutched to the small lunch pail, which held my afternoon meal of a simple kelp stew and a sugarmelon cookie, and just watched the others. My observations were interrupted by the shadow of a larger boy towering above me. He stared at me, silent for a few seconds, before speaking.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

I held myself tighter and could feel my fingers ache from the strain.

"Thane Krios," I answered. I prayed for him to go away and leave me in peace, but he didn't budge. If anything he moved in closer. I could smell his breath; the combination of sweet and sour from the candy he had eaten.

"What's in the pail?"

Fear gripped me and I felt my mouth go dry. I had never been afraid of another person before, especially not a child. But in that moment the only thing I desperately wanted to do was run back home to my mother's arms and never return to school. I parted my lips to answer them but found I couldn't make any sound.

The lunch pail was yanked from my hands and my fingertips stung. I wanted to protest his actions and take back my possession. But I simply sat in the corner cowering and watched him pour my lunch onto the classroom floor.

There are those few moments within our lives which seem to come back in bolder colors and louder voices than others. Though we may be able to recount every second of our lives it's those vivid moments which often take over. They can define who we are, foretell who we are to be or what we intend to avoid. Or they can simply seem like repetitive nightmares which we can't seem to shake.

The savory smell of my lukewarm lunch pooled onto the floor tiles, soaking the pink cookie into a soggy mess. I rarely cried as a child, often trying to keep my emotions internal. Yet in that very hopeless moment the only way I could react to the boy's invasion of my shy existence was to sob while he laughed. I feebly tried to scoop up the liquid into my shaking hands, everything in my sight blurred by the tears. In that moment I felt alone, a target to be ridiculed.

Until another voice broke through the ringing in my ears.

"Ellam! Why did you do that?"

It was another child and I instinctively curled into a ball against the corner. The stew covering my hands seeped through my clothes and made the fabric cling uncomfortably to my skin. I tried so hard not to cry but the sobs transformed into hiccups. More voices exclaimed unfavorable attention towards the boy Ellam.

A hand dropped to my back and I flinched. I dared to peek out from my arms to see who touched me. Two large eyes the color of amethysts blinked at me with curiosity. A kind smile turned up on the owner's lips. I moved my arm a little more in order to get a better look at my rescuer.

She was smaller than me but held herself with the pride of someone much older. Her hand patted my back again as she glanced back over at Ellam who started to laugh and call insults.

"Don't worry about Ellam. He's a stupid, dirty frog," she wrinkled her pert nose and helped me stand. I giggled a little at her calling Ellam a "frog". It seemed silly at the time but if anyone deserved that insult it was my bully.

"I'm Uryah," she introduced kindly. "What's your name?"

A swelling of happiness overtook and I smiled. Suddenly the spilled soup didn't seem to be such a tragedy. I bowed to my new friend as I gave her my name. She grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the corner towards a group of children playing among a tall stack of blocks.

"We're playing Spectres and Thieves. Would you like to join in?"

I agreed and made friends with the rest of the children. Ellam, however, would never be an ally to me.

My first year of schooling would go on to be rather uneventful until, one evening, everything for my life would change and I would be forced to face destiny. I ran through the door of our small home, excited to show my parents and Pallen the test score on a book report I had been working diligently on, when I slid to a halt before the kitchen door. My gut sank and I let the tablet in my hand drop to the floor, unaware if I broke it or not.

The Hanar was tall, the top of her head nearly brushing the ceiling, and seemed to glow. Standing next to her was a drell interpreter, a slender male dressed in fine clothes. My mother and father both shared expressions of uncertainty and fear. My father was the first one to speak to me and I watched him drop to his knees. He placed his hands, almost too warm, on my shoulders as he began explain why the Hanar diplomat was visiting.

"Thane, this is Yealtka. She's a representative from the Illuminated Primacy" he explained evenly. I glanced from my father to Yealtka then back to my father. My guts dropped and the empty void was filled with fear.

There were always stories about the Compact and how it was often whispered throughout the drell community as being a deceptive form of accepted slavery but no one dared to challenge the idea. As you well know, my son, the concept of the Compact is very much logical. The humans have a similar concept called "Quid Pro Quo" or "This for that". The hanar needed a sentient species to act upon their behalf where they couldn't and the drell needed to continue to exist. To serve our "hosts" was normally seen as an honor and a privilege. But it was also a difficult concept to understand when the baton was being offered to you.

The interpreter, whose name was Omir, waited for Yealtka to pulse a response before translating it to us. No member of my family had elected to go under the necessary surgeries to read the Hanar's bioluminescent language. While we were always familiar with their presence they were a mystery to us. Many families were like mine in that way, which meant interpreters were necessary for interspecies interactions. Omir was the first Compacted drell I had ever met. Unless he was translating for his Hanar employer he spoke not a single word.

Under normal circumstances, the age for Compact training begins at the age of six. Pallen was never approached with any task therefore the subject of him being selected never came up during evening conversations. But I couldn't help wondering why I was chosen. Why was I so special? And what would I be trained to do?

It was an unsettling and terribly dreadful feeling to stand there and be forced to stare at the Hanar and her assistant. I couldn't speak. I simply stood before my father, his hands still wrapped gently but firmly around my shoulders, and listened to him tell me why we were "fortunate" to have such esteemed guests in our home.

"Yealtka is the Secretary of Defense. She heads the Special Forces Teams for the IP, and she says that you have been chosen to train for one of their elite teams," my father informed me.

I watched as Yealtka flashed rhythmically then allowed her assistant to translate.

"This one would like to report that the Illuminated Primacy has been watching you closely, Thane Krios. Your test scores and social interactions with other children have pegged you as a good candidate for the position which is being offered to you."

Still unable to speak, I looked to my father for an explanation.

"All your mother and I know is that the Compact agreement mentions it is highly important."

"This one apologizes for the lack of information the Primacy can divulge to the Krios family. The project is, at this moment, considered Top Secret. But It can assure you, your son will be safe," Yealtka said through Omir's voice.

My mother stooped down next to my father and painted a weak smile over her expression of doubt and concern.

"Well, what do you think, Thane? Being Compacted is a big honor. It means you'll be an important member of our society."

I wanted to agree with her and say "yes". Instead I found myself violently shaking my head and attempting to pull out of my father's embrace. My knees began to quake and my breath escaped my spasm-wracked lungs in short puffs. It felt like I was being swallowed by some great beast and there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening.

For a brief second I mustered up enough strength to break free from my father's hands. I dashed from the room, bolted out the front door of my home while my mother called for me to return. My heart was pounding to the point my chest hurt. All I could think about was how I needed to get far away from Yealtka and her mouthpiece Omir. It was difficult to see where I was going for the tears that partially blinded me. I ran until I could no longer and found myself at the edge of the neighborhood.

There was a park nearby, a place my parents often took Pallen and me. I favored climbing into an elevated clubhouse structure to watch other children with their families. In my anxiety-driven state it seemed the only logical place I could hide out. There weren't any others in the park when I jogged through the gates. I spotted my clubhouse haven and used what was left of my strength to climb up the narrow ladder and sneak inside. Curled into a corner, I wept until sleep took me.

Reality, when viewed with the mind of a child, is so very different of a place than that of an adult's. Monsters are very real and the world is always so much bigger. Yet, when we look back on specific moments it's difficult to go back into that child-like mentality. You can still experience that fear or that joy but it always seems tinged with the skepticism and doubt of an adult. I look back now at that moment when I fled my home and wonder if I should've kept running. I never thought of how easy I made it for my family to find me. The mind of a child doesn't think about those things.

It was night when I was woken by a gentle shaking on my arm. I shifted my sight up to see Pallen sitting next to me. He wore no smile and his brow was crinkled from the faint frown.

"I knew I'd find you here," he said. "Mother and Father were worried sick."

There was a long moment of silence between my brother and me as I slowly sat up. My body ached from the stress of running and my head throbbed with sinus pressure. I couldn't look him in the eyes. Shame and guilt overtook any bit of pride for making my family afraid for me.

"Thane, why did you run away like that?" his voice thickened with sternness.

I wanted to respond, tell him how I wanting nothing more than to not be forced into a Compact. Instead, I shook my head and bit on the insides of my cheeks to keep more tears at bay. Pallen surprised me with a tight hug which broke my silent resolve.

"I don't want to go," I admitted and sobbed against his shoulder.

"I know."

Pallen helped me out of the clubhouse to where my parents waited for me. My mother scooped me into her arms and held me tightly. The smell of salt wafted up my nose and, for the first time, I realized what that certain scent meant; tears. She had been crying. After a short admonishment of "don't you ever do that again!" she returned to kissing my brow and whispering how much she loved me. My father simply stated that he was glad I was alright.

When we returned home Yealtka and Omir were no longer there and I rejoiced in my mind. Surely they wouldn't want me now; a runaway child who refuses to listen to reason. I thought I had won.

"Thane," my father took my hand and led me into his office, "I believe you and I need to have a discussion about the Compact offering."

My triumph was short-lived and my happiness faded.

He sat me down next to him at his desk and showed me the contract left by Yealtka. I didn't want to look at it but he placed the datapad onto my lap, forcing me to read the words.

"We don't have to agree to it, son. No drell is ever forced into a Compact. You know that, right?"

I nodded but didn't truly believe him.

"We can contact Yealtka right now and tell her that we are declining the offer. But, I want you to understand, that becoming a Compacted agent will ensure your future. You will always have employment, you will have a home to your name, and you will always have your freedom as a citizen of Kahje. Nothing is taken from you; especially not your family. You will always have us, Thane."

I glanced up at him and was surprised to see kindness and understanding reflecting deep inside his eyes. I nodded again.

"May I think about it?" I asked.

"You may, son, but Yealtka will want an answer within the week. After that she'll take the Compact offer away. Very few have ever allowed that to happen."

I didn't sleep much that evening. The subject of the Compact consumed my thought process and kept any relaxation from me. The contract was difficult to translate but what I did make out seemed fairly logical. I was to be made into a sort special operations agent but no detailed descriptions were given. The idea was, of course, tempting and exciting, but still left me feeling uneasy.

The next morning I announced to my family that I would accept the Compact. My mother exclaimed how proud of me she was while my father and brother remained quiet.

I wondered if I had made the correct decision. It was too late to consider that thought, I realized as I looked down at my crooked signature on the datapad. My fate had been sealed by the mind of a six year old child.

*author's note- Yes, I know it's not likely that "frogs" exist anywhere else in the galaxy other than Earth, but my headcanon has invented a frog-type species for Kahje which the drell consider dirty and unclean. Therefore to call someone a "frog" is a huge insult. Also, I was too lazy to come up with a drell translation for said "frog". Please, forgive me.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

He was interrupted by his wife Dana announcing dinner. Kolyat gently closed the book cover and tucked it under his arm while descending the stairs of his home. During dinner he noticed Dana's bright peacock green eyes glancing with vague interest over at the book's blank cover.

"What's that?" she finally asked, breaking the short moment of silence.

"Something Father gave me before he died. A journal. I thought about giving it to Deylos."

"Why Deylos in particular?"

Kolyat immediately thought on his eldest son and the striking similarities he shared with Thane in both looks and personal philosophy. A faint smile pulled on his face.

"Deylos always was the one who thought of my father as some kind of superhero. There are other things I want to pass on to the other two but the journal, in particular, is his."

"When do you plan on giving it to him?"

"He returns back home from the Citadel tomorrow. Perhaps when he's rested some I'll invite him to dinner and give it to him then."

Dana smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I think that's a wonderful idea, love. You and he need to spend some 'father and son' time together."

Kolyat grunted in response and let his sight fall to the journal's cover once again. He couldn't seem to escape the haunting words of his father's life, and he wondered just how long he had planned the journal. Did he mean for his son to know so much about him?

O . . . O . . . O

I returned to school after the end of week break and wondered, due to my agreement to become Compacted, if I looked any different. Those lucky enough to be chosen weren't required to wear any sort of badge or marking announcing their status, but I felt changed in some way. My classes would be cut short in order to begin training and I still wasn't sure what it was that I would be doing for the Hanar. A note was sent to my teacher to inform him about my training but it wasn't brought up to my classmates that first day.

My training wouldn't start for another three weeks, but I still had visitors from the Illuminated Primacy prior. I was greeted one afternoon, during recess, by a woman wearing an Illuminated Primacy badge. She smiled kindly and stooped down before me as I lazily pushed a toy wave skidder along the grass.

"Hello, Thane. I'm Velda Gardeel. I am your personal liaison to the Primacy. I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's okay."

I kept my sight on my toy and shrugged. I knew that I would be attacked with curiosity from my classmates the moment we returned to the room, especially from my friend Uryah.

"Do you know why you've been asked to serve Kahje?"

I shook my head and began to curl into a tight ball in hopes that making myself smaller would force her to go away. I didn't want to continually be faced with the fact that I made such an important decision. My family seemed happy for me, but, deep down inside, I wasn't. I often prayed at night to the gods that time could be reversed and I would've denied the contract.

The gods never answered my request.

"Kahje is a very special place in the galaxy. Not only is it home to the Hanar and we drell, but it is also an interstellar port for lots other planets. We get many visitors here, so, it is important that our home is kept as safe as possible from others who may want to harm Kahje's citizens and our government. And that's where you come in," she continued to keep her voice soft and gentle.

"The contract said 'special operations tasks'," I finally spoke to her but still refused to gaze upon her face.

"That is correct. There are special tasks appointed to a very few selected drell that the Hanar cannot perform themselves. We sought you out because you are so bright and attentive to detail. We think you would be perfect for one particular job."

As I listened to her I repeatedly dropped my wave skidder down, little by little damaging the small plastic structure. I watched as faint, hairline cracks began to form and develop longer lines. It was only a matter of time, a few more crashes into the ground, before the toy would shatter beneath my hands.

"Why didn't you pick my brother?" I dared to ask.

"Because your brother is just a little too old for the training courses. We start them as soon as a drell reaches six and you're almost that age. You will be in a week, correct?"

I never answered. Another crack split in the side of the skidder.

"Did you ever think of what you wanted to be when you grow up? What kind of career you'd like to have?"

The toy began to splinter, small shards dropping into the grass.

"A writer, like my father."

"Oh," Velda chirped with apparent surprise. "You never thought you'd like to be seen as a superhero or someone important?"

"My father's important and he's not a superhero."

I stopped ramming the toy into the ground and pulled it close to my heart. My sinuses began to swell with pressure from the tears I was holding back. Why was this stranger still here? I thought I had made it clear that I didn't want her to talk to me.

"You're right. He is important, but you get to be important in a different kind of way. I have someone I want you to meet. His name is Runi Edarnos and he'll be your trainer. Would you like to meet him now?"

I found myself standing tall before her, staring with searing anger into her eyes, and throwing my toy down so hard that it finally fractured into several indiscernible pieces before my feet. For a mere second I could see fear in Velda's face before she quickly hid it in a weak smile.

"Okay, Thane. You can meet Sere Edarnos tomorrow."

Before she had a chance to speak any more to me I fled for the school, hiding in a dark corner until I could calm myself. Despite the fact that most children feared darkness I felt at home within the shadows. I welcomed its ability to hide and envelop me into it. I could observe more; I watched others live their private lives and kept their secrets as my own. I reveled in the ability of melting into the dark and becoming a part of it.

I waited there until my classmates had all shuffled back into the room before I reappeared, making sure I was the last one to enter to avoid awkward conversations directed at me. But I didn't escape the curious looks. And I knew I couldn't continue hiding for long.

When the school day came to a close I attempted to keep away from the crowd of students by pretending to appear busy with putting away my datapad. A familiar pat on my shoulder told me that I wasn't about to escape the room in peace. The scent of sugarmelon cookie told me exactly who had approached me.

"Who was the lady you were talking to?" Uryah asked bluntly.

I sighed wearily and slung my satchel strap over my chest. I supposed that I could rely on Uryah to not spread rumors. She had proven to be loyal to me and vice versa. After all, she was the one person outside my family I trusted the most.

" Don't say anything to the rest of the class, okay?" I pleaded in a quiet voice.

Uryah nodded and stepped closer to me. There wasn't anyone else other than our teacher in the room so I felt safe enough to reveal the news.

"I've been Compacted."

I watched her eyes slowly widen and her jaw drop with awe. I couldn't understand how so many people viewed the Compact as something exceptional and rare. I venture that if I had told her I was visited by Amonkira in my dreams with the promise of wealth and power the reaction would've been the same. Compacted civilians were often seen as special and heroic. Yet, I still couldn't force myself to feel any amount of pride.

"Really? Do you know what you're going to do?" she asked in a raspy whisper.

I shook my head and followed her out of the classroom. "Please, let's keep it a secret between us for now."

Her warm hand slid into mine and we walked together out of the school with our feet synchronized.

"Your secret's safe with me," she promised and gave me a sweet smile.

The subject of my Compact wasn't mentioned at home or even during school until recess the next day. Uryah and I were playing with her collection of Galaxy Heroes figurines when a tall shadow fell over us. Her head lifted up high enough for her left hand to hold on to her veil.

"Good afternoon, young Sana and young Sere," a deep voice waved over us.

I finally glanced up at the visitor and suddenly felt very small.

Sere Runi Edarnos was, perhaps, the biggest drell I had ever seen. To a child most adults appeared large and impressive. But Sere Edarnos instantly reminded me of a champion of the gods Mother often told me about as bedtime stories. The sleeves of his light grey shirt were tight against his massively muscled arms. One meaty fist was bigger than my head. The ribbing at his throat and cheeks was deep orange, complimenting the bright blue scales of his skin. Not only was I frightened in the way a small creature is afraid of a possible predator, but also fascinated.

Uryah, without being asked, gathered up the toys and politely stepped away. I stood up and stared up at the skyscraper-tall man.

"Hello, Thane. I'm sure you were expecting to meet me today," he held out his large palm for me to shake. My tiny hand was swallowed by his.

"Shall we go somewhere private to talk? I'd like to discuss what it is you'd be doing in your Compact agreement."

I nodded and followed him back into the school where he escorted me to a small room often used for detention. Runi sat across from me and smiled an awkward turn of his thin lips. He didn't seem as fake as Velda which made my apprehension begin to fade. I studied his strongly masculine features, comparing him to my father who was tall, slender, and, oddly enough for a man, graceful. Runi reminded me of a slab of granite.

"I want you to know that, while it does seem daunting to be given an important task such as a Compact, it will mean that you will be doing a great service to Kahje; not just for the Hanar, but for the drell as well," he began. "Every job performed by a Compacted agent is important even if it seems like there isn't much significance in what the agent is doing. The Compact is in place to keep every citizen of Kahje safe; every Hanar, every drell, even those who are not traditionally native to this world. What we are asking of you is to be our front line in when it comes to those who mean to harm us."

I frowned with confusion as I turned the statement over in my mind.

"I am to become a soldier?" I asked, suddenly very interested in what my proposed position would be.

"Not exactly, young Sere," he shrugged his thick shoulders. "We need you to be more than a common soldier. Your ability to notice minute details and to follow directions without any derivation has drawn our attention to those talents."

"What am I to do?" I found that I was leaning in closer and my heart began to beat erratically.

Without saying a word, Runi slid a datapad onto the tabletop for me to read. There were images of criminals, mostly terrorists and slavers, with short descriptions of who they were and how they were stopped. Each profile ended the same way; death via assassination. When I finished reading the information I slid the datapad back to him.

"I am to be trained as an assassin," I said calmly.

Runi firmly regarded me, and I knew that his answer was "yes".

I should've felt some kind of fear, or nausea, or hesitation for the reveal of my Compact agreement. Indeed, I was being asked to kill people for the Primacy. What I did feel, however, surprised me after I thought about it. It made absolute sense; there were many on the outside, and even within the safety of our domed cities, who wanted to jeopardize the freedom celebrated throughout Kahje and those villains needed to be taken care of in a very permanent fashion.

Several long seconds of silence passed as I contemplated what was being asked of me. I ended the moment by staring Runi deep in his eyes and asking one question.

"Just the bad guys, right? I don't think I can hurt anyone who isn't guilty."

He nodded and gave me another thin-lipped smile.

"Just the bad guys, Thane. The Primacy would never ask you to harm the innocent."

I gave him an okay and he shook my hand one last time before allowing me to return to class which had resumed. I didn't reveal to Uryah what I would become. I didn't need her to be afraid of me and I didn't want to lose her friendship.

The walk home with Pallen was, on the outside, nothing different from any other time, but my mind was consumed with the subject of becoming an assassin. I was afraid to tell my family the terms of my Compact. Becoming a soldier, I'm sure they would've understood and even encouraged. But to tell them that my career involved killing; I couldn't predict how they would react. I chose not to unveil the new information to anyone so suddenly. I needed time to think, time to decide how to break the news.

I never said anything on the subject of my Compact until after my annual Day of Naming celebration. The guilt of keeping my secret weighed heavily on my mind. News of the Compact agreement spread like wildfire within my extended family. Under normal circumstances the celebration of my sixth year of life should've been a wonderful and fun-filled occasion, but it was simply a large intimation that my training would begin. My fellow kin, especially cousins, viewed me as a personal celebrity. I was the first Krios within a generation to be Compacted. Before me was an uncle who served as a government-funded surgeon. He was often sent to outlying colonies to help Hanar or drell who didn't have access to the convenience of nearby medical facilities. I never had the pleasure of meeting him.

I tried to not appear melancholy and remain my normal somewhat cheerful self, but the secret ate at me. At the end of the day, I was so consumed with the burden that I hurt internally. I had to tell someone.

My brother was sitting in his room, munching on a sweet roll treat he had hoarded away from the food trays. He looked up from his snack, automatically hiding the small pastry from my eyes, and regarded me with surprise and shame for being caught.

"Don't tell Mother," he whispered. "She'll be angry and accuse me of ruining my appetite for dinner."

I nodded in agreement and stepped further into his room, wringing my hands behind my back as I watched his brow slowly lower over his eyes.

"Are you alright? You were really quiet today; quieter than usual."

I found myself gravitating towards the corner and unable to meet his eyes.

"I have something I need to tell you," I murmured.

Pallen got up from his bed and closed the door behind us. I followed him back over to the bed and sank into the pile of blankets and pillows balled up in the center of the mattress. My brother was not the neatest person.

He tore the sweet in two and offered me a piece.

"I'm listening," he prodded.

I flipped the pastry over and over between my fingers, feeling the sinking anxiety grip to my guts. There was definite hesitation in revealing the truth to him but I knew that if I didn't open up I would snap. Adults are well-equipped with keeping personal information from others. Children should never have to face such a tax, even those inherently quiet such as I tended to be.

"I know why I was Compacted. I found out last week."

Pallen waited for me to answer.

I took a deep breath and swallowed the thick lump that had formed in my throat. "They want to train me as an assassin."

My brother stared at me with an empty expression and it unnerved me that I couldn't decipher what he was thinking. Pallen was always easy to read, his emotions so pure and honest that he barely hid much from anyone.

"You don't want to do it?" he finally spoke.

"No," I shook my head, "I want to. There are lots of bad people in galaxy, people who mean to do harm, who live to hurt others, and a lot of times no one can catch them. But I can. I can make them stop doing bad things. It would only take a second, maybe less, and then they would be gone forever, no more of a threat to anyone else. I know I can kill them."

Though it didn't reflect on his face, I could see the smallest glimmer of fear and distrust within his eyes. His hands began to tremor, crushing the pastry in his palms. It was the first time I had ever seen anyone afraid of me.

"Do Mother and Father know?" he whispered.

I shook my head again. "I don't think anyone is supposed to know yet."

There was another long, uncomfortable pause between us.

"Okay," he slipped off the bed and threw the remains of his snack into a waste bin, brushing the bits of sugar and crust off his fingers.

I started to walk out of his room, quietly bidding him a good night when he stopped me at the door. He wrung his hands tightly, and his face had been pulled tight from worry.

"Thane, aren't you scared?"

Yes, I should have felt scared; I should've been terrified or even disgusted over the fact that I was to become an instrument of death. But I wasn't.

I glanced back at him and allowed a proud smile to slide onto my mouth.

"Not anymore."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Kolyat couldn't sleep. The words of the journal continued to haunt him. He glanced over at Dana, deep asleep, then carefully stepped out of the bed and tiptoed back into his study. The journal rested innocently on the top of his desk, waiting to be picked back up. He rubbed his chin in thought, then shook his head and started to walk away.

But the pull of the script, the need to see how the handwriting changed ever so slightly when his father was writing about a monumental moment of his past nagged at him. He glanced back over at his shoulder and regarded the journal. Thane's memory haunted him once again.

_There is still more, Kolyat. You may know the words, but there is always more behind them. Come see me again…_

He sank down into his desk chair and opened the cover, flipping to the page where he left off earlier in the evening. Once again he could hear his father's rich, soft basso reciting the letters, drawing him back into the story.

O . . . O . . . O

"Do you know what it means to be an assassin?" Runi stared down at me, a tower of a man with logs for arms crossed over his thick chest. I stared down at my feet and wondered if this was a trick question.

"It means I kill bad guys and people pay me for it?"

"Wrong!" he barked at me and forced my chin up to look into his eyes. "It means that your employers kill them and you are simply the tool they chose to get the work done. Understand? You can never be held accountable for the job unless you claim responsibility."

I nodded and let that particular fact sink deep into my brain. I couldn't be called a killer and my conscious would continue to stay clean. That question was the only thing that pestered me as I thought more in depth about my Compact agreement.

During the weekly ceremony at our local temple I silently asked the gods if I would still be considered a good person. The idea that I could kill another sentient, in possession of an immortal soul, and still retain a pure heart made me question many morals. I suppose that my prayer was answered when Runi clarified the definition of an assassin.

I started my training a week after my Day of Naming anniversary in a building near the school. Many times I walked past the unremarkable outside not thinking twice about what lay beyond the door. The interior was just as plain as the outside but the fact that only a few were ever allowed inside gave it mystique. It also made me feel somewhat special.

The only face I wasn't pleased to see within the same walls was Velda Gardeel. She still unnerved me for some unknown reason. It wasn't that she was unfriendly. Quite the contrary, actually. She was rather kind to me but it never felt genuine. Her smile was always too wide but failed to reflect any joy in her eyes. I could never read her emotions well enough to determine any bit of information about who she was.

I was Runi's only apprentice for some time. I was informed that another child would be asked to be trained as an assassin but had yet to find out if the agreement would be accepted. I decided early on that I liked the big man. While he was brutally honest and even strict, he was never cruel or treated me with any kind of disrespect.

I discovered that he was an assassin for many years before the Hanar asked him to step down from his success and act as tutor for incoming neophytes. There was no pride to Runi other than what he felt for the Primacy. He never bragged about his record, though I was surprised to see he had an impressive amount of statistics with virtually no misses.

For the first few days there was nothing involving the act of assassination or weapons. Most of what I was taught was simple anatomy in regards to the known sentient species and where their weaknesses were as well as what was the quickest and most painless way to end their lives. There were also many lessons on culture and xenosociology, how to behave outside of Kahje society, and learning other languages that might prove to be useful. There was so much more involved with training to become an assassin aside from using a high-caliber rifle. In fact, I began to understand, over time, why someone of great intelligence would be needed for this particular assignment.

Nearly a year into the training was when I discovered that I had an extra talent that I never knew about. Velda escorted me to a neurologist working within the IP who was studying the field of biotics. Few children were ever tested during my time, even fewer were discovered to have developed capabilities.

New Rakhana was founded on the edge of an Ezo mine, long defunct in production and use, but some of the radiation found its way to the surface and into the dry lands of the island-bound city. Unlike humans, where the radiation can cause deadly, cancerous tumors in infants, it was theorized that drell process the material in ezo, which can cause biotic abilities, somewhat differently due to denser tissue within the brain. I was given a variety of tests, some noninvasive but some that caused significant pain. In the end it was discovered that I had just enough in me to fit me with an amplifier.

I was assured that the procedure would be virtually painless and I would sleep through most of it, but I was frightened. I wanted my mother to be there for me, to hold my hand and tell me I would be alright.

My parents discovered that I was to be a valuable asset to anti-terrorist projects within the special operations department of Kahje's military but still did not know exactly what it was I was being trained to do. I took Runi's advice and didn't tell them anything. Pallen continued to keep my secret. In fact, from the moment I told him of my future as an assassin he kept his distance from me. I didn't want my brother to fear me yet I knew that he did.

The surgery for my biotics, along with the treatment to my retinas which would allow me to read the Hanar's bioluminescent language, took less than two hours, and, just as the physicians had said, I slept through the procedure.

I woke up feeling drugged and disconnected from reality. The warmth of a soft hand clung tightly to mine and I could feel my pulse thump at the tips of my fingers. My eyes began to open, blurred from both sleep and a healing salve used to restore the delicate tissue. It took a moment to realize that my sight had changed. The book on the bedside stand, which I had brought with me to pass away moments of boredom, no longer had the dark blue cover I recalled it having. My nose wrinkled with confusion as I took a closer look, wondering if someone had changed it to another book. I reached out to grab it, and I gasped when I noticed that my skin didn't look as green as before.

"Thane," my mother's soft voice tunneled through my ears. "Are you feeling alright?"

I turned my head quickly, causing sharp pains to shoot up my neck. I dropped down into the pillow and cringed in pain. The sound of a chair scooting made me open my eyes to, once again, view the world around me in muted colors. Mother rushed to the door of my room, poking her head out to call for a nurse.

Confusion swarmed in my drug-addled brain as I watched her return with help following. I cowered deeper into the bed, pulling the thin sheet up to my nose. The nurse, a pretty young woman, leaned over me and checked my vitals with a scanner.

"You're healing rather nicely, Sere Krios," she informed. "I can administer some pain medication if you are hurting."

I nodded and watched as she injected a hypo directly into the IV port at my wrist. She gave me another smile and informed my mother I would be fine, then turned away and left. Seconds later the medication began to take away the pain but replaced it with the feeling of cloth filling my head.

"I feel funny," I mumbled to Mother. She patted my hand and kissed it. I glanced over at her again, suddenly missing the bright turquoise tone of her skin.

"I'm sure you do," she tried to smile but the expression read sadness and worry rather than comfort. "You just tell me what you need and I'll see to it, okay?"

I nodded and let my eyelids close heavily over my aching eyes.

"Will you read me Father's book?" I motioned towards the copy on the stand. She complied and started to recite the words in her soft voice, lulling me to sleep soon after she began.

"You got your new eyes, I see," Runi grumbled when I returned to the training facility a few days later. It took some getting used to the dull spectrum but it was a small sacrifice to make in order to communicate with the Hanar who would later employ me. The only reminder of the surgeries was a faint scar along my left temple. I had yet to utilize any biotic talent but I knew that the time would come sooner than later. There was still much to learn before I was shown how to use weapons and other tactics for killing.

"Does the blurriness ever clear?" I asked. The healing process for the retina treatment forced me to wear glasses designed to allow my pupils to gradually acclimate to the change.

Runi smiled his thin grin and nodded.

"Give it a couple of days and you'll see things clearly again. In fact, you probably see more detail than you had before. The lack of vibrant colors, however, is permanent."

I knew that fact but I didn't want to believe it.

My lessons were interrupted by Velda entering the room. I tried not to show my dislike for her and attempted to hide the grimace that was starting to form on my face. Her robotic gait carried her over to Runi where she began to whisper against his frill, her eyes focused on me. I tried to keep looking onto my current task of learning the biology of Krogan but every now and then I would flick my eyes up to watch my tutor talk to Velda.

"… and you are sure this is necessary now?" I heard Runi's voice murmur to her.

Velda caught my stare, and I immediately dropped my gaze back down to my datapad, continuing my memorization of the cardiovascular system.

_Two carotid arteries; easily accessible beneath the thick jaw plates. Quick, painless elimination can be performed with the aid of a well-honed, long-bladed weapon (ie- dagger, hunting knife, short sword)…_

"Yealtka would like to speak with him. It has been nearly two years since their first meeting and she's been more than curious to discover how he's progressing," Velda informed Runi.

_Krogan can be temporarily halted by sharp, firm contact to the genital region. Though partially concealed beneath a loose flap of skin, the four gonads of the male, known in the common vernacular as "quads" can be distinguished as a bulge between the legs. One blow can be sufficient, though it is recommended that a series of hard kicks be administered to fell the enemy…_

"Yealtka needs to learn patience!" Runi hissed. "The boy's just come back from his biotic implant procedure. He's still adjusting to his 'revisioning'. Tell her she can wait another two days and I'll bring him to see her."

Velda did not move to give his message. I stopped reading to watch the blank expression on her face suddenly change. Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned, drawing deep wrinkled into her pointed chin. I never considered her attractive, but the glare she shot my teacher gave her the appearance of a sea hag. I didn't bother to look away. I was both terrified and fascinated with the sudden transformation.

She moved in closer to Runi, baring her teeth and her frill, and began to trill a low, dominant growl.

"Yealtka will meet with Thane Krios now, or I will have you arrested for contempt due to keeping important information from a member of the Primacy. Do you understand, Sere Edarnos?"

Runi stepped back and inclined his head to her.

"Perfectly, Councilor Gardeel," I could hear the faint sarcasm edging in his voice.

As quickly as the ugly expression formed on her face, it suddenly disappeared behind her normally practiced fake smile as she turned her sight to me.

"We will be awaiting his arrival," she said in a polite lilt, then turned on the balls of her feet and walked out the door.

I felt a tremble race up my spine and returned to breathing normally, realizing that I had been holding in my breath during the confrontation. Runi sighed and waved me out of my seat.

"Come along, young Sere. I suppose we can't keep the Primacy waiting, though I think their request is a bit daft and poorly timed," he dropped his meaty hand to my shoulder and gently pushed me out the door.

Yealtka was standing in the center of a large, round office flanked by her personal assistant Omir and Velda. The room was minimalist in all sense of the word; no windows and no decorations. There were two entrances to the room; a typical sliding door used by terrestrial-based sentients and a simple opening in the floor at the back which allowed the Yealtka and any other Hanar to travel into the Encompassing.

I bowed respectfully to the Hanar, not wanting to meet Velda's eyes, and gave the traditional greeting a Compacted agent uses to a member of the Primacy.

"Greetings, and well met, Servant of the Enkindlers."

There was a short pause after my words. I remained bowed but from the corners of my "revisioned" eyes I noticed something very different about the Hanar. Before the treatment the glow used as their form of communication was, of course, noticeable, but only as faint pulses within the main section of the body.

A brilliant flash of pure white light illuminated throughout Yealtka, flashing in patterns and brightness. It was in that moment that I realized just how deeply elaborate the bioluminescent language truly was. The subtle differences between the pulses and the speed in which they were given could defer the emotions and the meanings behind every word. It was also the first time I realized how beautiful the Hanar could be.

I must have been gawking in awe for Runi nudged me against my elbow and motioned towards my mouth. Immediately, I snapped my slacked jaw shut, feeling a touch of chagrin for showing such disrespect.

Since I still had not learned the native language of the Hanar, Omir continued to act as Yealtka's translator.

"Young Sere Thane Krios, This One is pleased to meet you again."

Unsure of what to say, I simply nodded and dropped my gaze down to my feet.

"Thank you."

More shimmering pulses and waves traveled through Yealtka's body followed by Omir's soft voice.

"Sere Edarnos, It has read in your reports that you feel Young Sere has promise as one of our elite operators. Do you still stand by your words?"

"Of course, I do," Runi answered with pride. "I have great faith that he will provide all you need and more. He is a fast learner, highly intelligent, and quick to adapt to situations."

Yealtka glided gracefully away from Velda and stopped near a long table at the left side of the room. One long tentacle was raised towards the door as she pulsed more light.

"This One requests to speak privately to Young Sere," she said through Omir.

Velda's eyes widened and her perfect posture slacked as she stared at the Hanar with shock.

"But, My Servant, I must oppose your request!"

I watched as Yealtka turned her oblong body quickly, surprising me with the amount of speed she possessed outside the water. She pulsed a dim, steady light and lifted the front point of her body up high.

"Velda Gardeel may oppose all she likes, but It will not agree to her opposition. This One will speak to Young Sere alone!" Omir's voice rose to express Yealtka's slight anger.

Velda's face twisted into a pout, but she bowed before quickly walking out the door followed by Runi who attempted to hide the amused grin pulling on his lips.

The door closed and I continued to stare at Yealtka with curiosity. A nervous ball began to form in my gut, forcing me to hide my fidgeting hands behind my back. The acoustics of the room allowed even the smallest sound to echo. I was sure that my racing heartbeat sounded as though a troupe of drummers were banging loudly within the space of the office.

Omir crossed the room, pressed his cheek to the door, then gave a brief nod before returning to his place next to his superior.

"You are free to speak casually, My Servant," he said as he slid out a chair for me to sit in.

Yealkta slowly dropped down before me, folding her long tentacles beneath her body, and pulsed a soft light.

"It is normally customary for a Compacted agent in training to not meet their employers so soon, but considering that Sere Runi has such faith in your abilities, I wanted to become personable with you. We will be working together quite a lot both during your training and when you are finally able to perform necessary tasks."

I blinked in shock. Hanar rarely ever referred to themselves in "first person" and I wondered if Omir mistranslated. But there was nothing to suggest he had said anything incorrect. I inclined my head in respect.

"As you wish, My Servant," I replied.

"No need to call me that, Young Sere. I want to push past formalities. My name to you shall be 'Shimmers With Joy Beneath the Waves' as you will be 'Thane' to me. I am your contact, your confidante, and your partner within the Illuminated Primacy."

At the time I didn't realize just how momentous an occasion this was. I assumed that any drell Compacted learned the "soul name" of their clients early on. What had happened between me and Yealtka, or Joy as I had come to call her, was rare, practically unheard of.

"Do you have any questions for me?" she asked kindly.

I thought for a moment, a million queries whirpooling in my mind, but I couldn't grasp one. So I simply shook my head.

"And that is fine. Whenever you do have one, you may come to me with it. Do not be afraid to approach. We are, as I said, partners."

"Okay," I murmured meekly.

"May I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Do you like being a Compacted agent?"

"I suppose so," I shrugged.

A tentacle was dropped onto my shoulder and I looked her face on, watching the myriad of flashes and glows light up her body.

"I know that the task ahead of you will not be easy, and I don't expect you to be happy with the idea of knowing what you will become. But it is necessary. Every government out there, in the galaxy, employs assassins. We must do things a little differently since our bodies do not allow us to act as most known sentients do. I regret the need for using you thusly, but you are precious to us. Know that, Thane; you are extremely valuable to us, as both a citizen of Kahje and as a line of defense. The rest of Kahje may not know about you, but you will be keeping us safe."

I nodded in understanding then watched her stand back up.

"You may return to your lessons, Young Sere. And thank you for allowing me to speak to you today."

I smiled and bowed to her and to Omir before starting for the door. A thought occurred to me and I stopped and turned back around.

"I do have one question."

"You may ask," Joy bobbed.

"Will I be made to kill anyone I know?"

Joy let her body droop slightly and started for the Encompassing entrance, slowly pulsing her light as she walked.

"I cannot answer that question as of now, Thane. I hope that those you are asked to stop will be people you have never met. But even within our seemingly harmonious government there are many dark spots among the brightest lights. The things we don't want to see are often the things we need to focus upon. I bid you a good day, Sere Krios."

And with that Joy dropped into the opening and disappeared from my sight. Omir escorted me back to my training room, leaving me to finish my daily lessons with Runi.

Later that night I was woken by a nightmare. It weren't any monsters chasing me or the feeling of falling off a cliff.

It was that terrible, snarling face Velda shot at Runi. Her eyes glowed with some unholy light, her face wrinkled and puckered into the mask of a vicious, evil creature of the Abyss. Deep inside my mind I could hear Joy's last words to me before she swam off into the Ocean.

"The things we don't want to see are often the things we need to focus upon…"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

The first long letter ended and Kolyat marked the page with a business card before standing up to stretch his legs and arms. He yawned and decided that he needed to return to bed before Dana came looking for him. Carefully slipping back under the sheets, he thought that he had actually managed to not wake his wife. Until…

"Couldn't sleep again, Kol?" she asked in a rough, sleep-rich voice.

"No," he sighed and stared up at the ceiling, counting the swirls in the stucco finish.

"Are you alright?" Dana rolled over to face him, her drowsy eyes blinking slowly as she stared at him. Kolyat smiled weakly and leaned over to kiss her frill, his hand covering hers as it rested on his shoulder.

"I'm fine, love. Just stuck on memories of my father, that's all. As much as I despised him for so long, there at the end we really bonded. I never realized just how much he mourned my mother, how many regrets he burdened himself with, until we actually started talking. I wish you could've met him."

"I know," she yawned and patted his chest lazily. "Let's get some sleep, okay? Atlon and Irikah are coming over to meet Deylos after you bring him home and I don't want you to be grumpy because you didn't get enough rest."

He agreed and kissed her again before allowing himself to drift off to sleep. He dreamed of the happier moments spent with Thane before his death.

Kolyat readied himself the next morning for the trip to retrieving his son. The voyage to the Vashta City port,would take a couple of hours, including "island hopping" past a few off-shore sand bar towns, before reaching the highly populated city which was Kahje's main docking bay. New Rakhana, which was Kolyat's hometown, may have been the largest surface metropolitan area but due to the many little off-shoot islands which served as suburbs of the capitol, Vashta City was more convenient a place for the incoming visitors to enter the planet and served as the main hub for Kahje's imports and exports. It's true, Deylos could've simply hailed a shuttle bound for home, but Kolyat stubbornly refused to allow his son to take the trip alone in a public access transport. Actually, it was Dana's idea to see her eldest son met by family, but Kolyat agreed and openly volunteered to do the task.

He climbed into the family car and programmed the trip for his destination before settling in his seat and retrieving the journal which he had tucked into his jacket's inner pocket. It was already planned to give it to Deylos, but a little selfish part of him wanted to finish reading about his father's childhood before passing it on. He slid his fingers in between the marked pages, taking the business card out, and began to read the second letter while the car sped towards the dome's exit.

O . . . O . . . O

My dearest son,

I am hoping that by the time you read this you will have gained a family of your own and understand what differences there are within the emotion we know as "love". There is the genuine, honest, and pure adoration a child feels for their parents or vise versa, the passionate, fiery desire lovers experience, and then there is what is affectionately known as "the crush". It is a human term I picked up from Jeff Moreau during an interesting conversation involving two of the Normandy's engineers and their constant teasing of one another. Jeff was convinced that they had a "crush" on each other, an innocent but strong feeling of admiration which can often be confused with love.

My first and only true love was, of course, your mother. I never felt that way for anyone else in my whole existence. But before I ever had the opportunity to meet her eyes I was rather fond of another girl who was training to be an assassin alongside me. Her name was Malliyah Soone and she had just started her Compact agreement by the time I was eight. She was brash, arrogant, obnoxious, and loud. And I secretly adored her!

I met Malliyah about a year after I received the revisioning treatment and the biotic amp implant. I had learned how to speak to the Hanar and how to read their bioluminescent language, finished all the necessary bookwork on assassination theory and anatomy references, and was starting to learn how to use weapons of the trade. Malliyah was to be my "apprentice", according to Runi, and I was eager but also apprehensive to teach her what I already knew. I was expecting her to be much like me; quiet, introspective, and attentive to detail. However, what I discovered the very first day of meeting her was quite the opposite.

She was shown into the room and introduced to us by Velda, who continued to be the least trusted individual in my life. I watched her sit next to me at the table and was about to politely welcome her when she took one glance at my face and broke into an uproar of laughter. I stared at her in confusion, wondering just what was so funny.

"You're so little! I thought you'd be bigger, but you're just as small as me!"

I recoiled from her, not sure what to make of this girl, but I continued to study her as she laughed at me. She had faint freckles across her upturned nose, light violet skin, and dark gold ribbing along her neck and cheeks. Her front teeth were almost too large for her small mouth, making it difficult to close her lips completely. She had a habit of playing with the jeweled weights on her veil and singing random songs while she studied. At first, it became a bit of a distraction. But, as time passed, her noisiness let me know that I wasn't alone in this world.

After a few days of getting used to her presence, Malliyah began to tease me, mercilessly in some instances. I didn't quite understand why she could be so cruel and call me names like "Kelp Krisps", because apparently my skin was the same shade of green as the popular snack, and "Unmarked", so I chose to ignore her most of the time. But one day I had enough of her bullying and confronted her.

"What did I ever do to you?!" I shouted at her during a martial arts lesson. She had attempted to trip me with her staff but I caught my footing before I could fall onto my face.

Malliyah stuck out her tongue and shoved her fists on her hips while wiggling left and right. It was rather immature, even for a girl of six. I took my task of training seriously, but she, to my impression, saw training as nothing more than a chance to play and cause chaos.

I threw my staff down and marched over to her; the anger in my body caused the biotic amps to begin sending faint sparks through my body.

"You are nothing more than a spoiled, mean brat! You have shown me no respect while I've tried to be nice to you! Well, I'm tired of being nice! You're a rude, little, stupid fool! I hope you fail your training because you'll make the worst assassin ever!"

Malliyah's chin began to quiver and her eyes filled with tears. With a throaty sob, she rushed away from me and out of the gym.

"Thane Krios!" Runi's deep voice rumbled like thunder across the room. Shame filled my very core and I slowly turned to face my teacher.

"Sere Edarnos?" I replied weakly.

Runi approached me, shaking his head, and picked up Malliyah's fallen staff.

"You don't know much about girls, do you, young Sere?" he smirked as he knelt before me.

I was expecting him to scold me for shouting at Malliyah. However, I didn't expect to get a "life lesson" taught to me.

"Why should I know about girls?" I asked skeptically. The only thing I knew about girls was what I learned from Uryah; they wore softer clothes than boys, spoke in higher-pitched voices, and had a tendency to giggle instead of laugh. But Uryah was no different from me. She liked to play with action figures, study insects, and wasn't squeamish over much unless it was the boiled skate served for lunch at times.

Runi attempted to cover up a chuckle with a cough and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder.

"A lot of times when a girl teases you or calls you names, it means that she likes you," he informed with a wink.

"She sure has a funny way of showing it. All she has to do is ask to be my friend, not call me names. That doesn't make sense!"

"No, it doesn't. But that's how Malliyah is. Now, I want you to go apologize for the cruel words you shouted to her."

"But…"

"Go! Now! Or I'll have no choice but to report this incident in your files!" he pointed to the door.

Begrudgingly, I sulked out the exit and went in search of Malliyah. She was easy enough to find, hiding in the far corner of the training room and crying into her veil.

"Malliyah," I called to her and watched as she tried to curl into a tighter ball. Memories of how I was bullied my first day of school came back to me and I felt utter shame for becoming, if for a brief moment, the very thing I myself tried to hide from.

"What do you want?" she sniffled.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those mean things to you. But you kept calling me names."

"I-I didn't mean to."

I sat down next to her in hopes of calming her down.

"Runi said it's because you like me."

"I do like you!" she finally looked at me, drying her tears with her veil as she drew in a ragged breath.

"Then why did you call me those names? Why did you call me 'Ugly'?"

"I don't know! Because… because… I thought that if I called you names you would think I was funny and that would make you like me."

"But they're not funny, they were hurtful."

"I know, and I'm sorry," she started to sniffle again. "I won't call you a cruel name again."

"And I'm sorry I said you would make a bad assassin."

Malliyah nodded in acceptance of my apologies, then surprised me as she lunged into my arms for a tight hug.

"You'll be my friend now?" she asked weakly.

"Yes," I agreed and smiled.

She twisted around to face me; her tiny face plopped down into her hands.

"May I tell you a secret?" she whispered, and I found myself scooting closer to listen. "Velda Gardeel scares me!"

"She scares me, too."

As time passed, Malliyah and I became close friends; not only because of the time we were together but also due to the longer sessions of training I had to endure. I spent less time at school, even less time with my family. I barely spoke to my brother, only a few moments during the day to say "hello" and "good night". It also became apparent that Pallen was changing into an adult. By the time I was nine he had turned 13 and started thinking about a career and, ultimately, romantic notions. The career option for me had already been taken care of and, while Malliyah still continued to tease me every now and then, the idea of caring affectionately for another barely crossed my young mind.

Nine was also the age where my training began to take place within the confines of a simulator. Programs had been installed to provide me with a variety of tactics to be used on presumed targets. There were different ways to kill whichever sentient I was "learning" about that day.

The first day I walked into the large, dark room with a touch of fear and anticipation. Years of learning via words scrawling across my datapad had brought me to this moment. Over and over in my mind I repeated a mantra to help keep me focused: "I will not fail, I will not fail!"

A voice piped through the speaker system, alerting me to the presumed task at hand.

"Subject; Asari mercenary. Application; sniping. Approach top platform and use firearm provided. Recommended tactic; head shot."

I realized the voice, unrecognizable to me, was a recording. Taking a deep breath, I climbed the ladder to reach the top of the platform and found that a rifle had been set up on a bipod. I went through the routines I had studied in earlier training on loading the magazine, shoving it into the receiver, pulling back the charging handle, and waiting for the test to begin. Every now and then I glanced down the scope to make sure I had a clear picture. Faint red hashes glowed in the cross-hairs, trembling ever so slightly with my breath and heartbeat.

Moments later, the hologram projection of my target appeared below, walking the length of the room. My heartbeat began to speed up and my breath fell onto my lips in slow, hot puffs. I shouldered the buttstock of the heavy weapon and watched the hologram float around the room like a ghost. My right hand began to shake as I hovered my finger above the trigger. Runi's words repeated in my head as I continued to visually stalk the asari.

"Keep your finger off the trigger! Don't ever put your finger on that trigger unless you are one hundred percent certain you are ready to shoot!"

I waited until the hologram stopped, just for a few brief seconds, but it was enough for me to take the action I needed. My breath stilled, jaw firm and clenched, and my body tensed just enough to take the sharp force of the recoil I anticipated. I looked past the parallax in the scope and focused on the dark blue segments below the edge of the scalp crests. It was the perfect place to focus my targeting laser on. With one last quick analysis of the situation, I decided that the moment was perfect and pulled back on the trigger.

The buttstock shoved back against my shoulder, causing my arm to sting from the sudden jolt. There was a faint ringing in my ears as the walls of the room echoed the noise the suppressor wasn't able to completely dull. The smell of smokeless powder filled my nostrils and I cycled out the spent round casing. I glanced back down the scope to see if I did indeed hit the target. My heartbeat deafened me. Much to my relief and pride, the hologram was crumpled on the floor in a lifeless ball.

"Assignment complete," the voice-over in the speakers interrupted the silence and I jumped with surprise. "Assassination simulation successful. Tissue damage to brain and skull; not repairable. Result; instantaneous death."

I wanted to celebrate but I knew that it would somehow seem wrong. Instead, I dropped to my knees and clasped my palms together as I began to pray to the gods, thanking them for my success. It seemed appropriate at the time and, although I didn't know it yet, it was a habit I would start after every assassination.

I waited for Runi to look over the test results, his face unreadable to me. When he finished he gave a low grunt and a quick shrug, then placed the datapad down before staring me directly in the eye. Next to me, Malliyah paused in her studies to listen to his conclusion. I had to sit on my hands to keep them from twitching. It seemed like ages before he spoke.

"Young Sana, would you please excuse us?" he asked.

Malliyah nodded and grabbed her datapad off the table while shooting me a worried regard before exiting the room. Another long moment of silence passed between Runi and me, and during that time I prayed to the gods, namely Amonkira, that I had met his expectations.

_I didn't fail. The recording said I didn't fail. What did I do wrong?_

"Well, now, Thane. I want to go over the recorded vid later, but according to this," he held up his datapad, "it says that you executed a perfect head shot in record time for a first trial. I wanted to give you some time to acclimate yourself to the training arena and even allow you a few mistakes before I started ticking off warnings, but, after seeing this, I'm wondering if you even need it."

"I simply applied what was taught to me, Sere Edarnos," I answered quietly.

He placed the datapad down and rubbed his broad chin with thought while staring at me.

"Of course, you did. I don't normally do this so soon but tomorrow I want you training for the entire day. You won't be going to school. I want to go over your sniper tactics with every known sentient species just to make sure you have it down perfectly. And I want Yealtka to supervise. Expect a very long day of training."

I nodded in agreement and focused on my hands which I had folded out before me. My knuckles had been clenched so tight that the scales covering them pulled open to reveal the tender flesh just beneath. Malliyah came back in and looked at me with question. I offered her no smile or shrug of relief. As a matter of fact, I still did not know if what I had done was considered good or bad.

The next morning, I arrived in the training arena to meet Runi and Joy. It was another long, nearly sleepless night due to the anxiety of wondering why my teacher acted so strangely in regards to my test results. I greeted them both with respect, calling Joy by her "Face Name" while in Runi's presence. Without a word, Runi pointed up to the top platform and motioned for me to climb to the top.

My heart pounded like a hammer against my sternum as I climbed the ladder. Again, there was a sniper rifle waiting for me. I went through the basic steps of loading the gun and waited for the test to begin. Runi had crept up behind me to watch the process while Yealtka had taken shelter in a surveyor's box on the outside of the arena. My hands shook and I did my best to hide the tremors while I positioned myself on the edge of the platform. I could "feel" his eyes on the back of my head.

"Subject; Batarian soldier. Application; sniping. Approach top platform and use firearm provided. Recommended tactic; head shot."

I glanced back at Runi to see what kind of reaction he had to the chosen target. He simply stared down at the floor below us, rubbing his wide chin with thought. Sighing, I turned back around and waited for the hologram to make its appearance. For several moments nothing happened. I kept my attention deep into the task at hand but was quickly growing bored. I wondered if there was a glitch in the system.

Suddenly, the faint glow of the hologram flashed in a far corner and my heart jumped. I glanced through the scope to see if this was my target but, instead, caught the representation of an Elcor slowly making their way through the alleys. I let out my breath and flopped down onto my behind, waiting again for several more minutes before anything else happened.

Many more holograms walked among the alleys and crossways of the floor, but none were the batarian soldier I was instructed to hunt. I began to wonder if I was simply being tested on my patience, which was starting to wear thin. My hand slipped down to the button to start collapsing the rifle when Runi's large hand clamped down onto my shoulder. I turned around, startled by the sudden touch, and watched him shake his head while narrowing his eyes.

"Not yet, Young Sere," his look read, and I hunkered back down to keep watching the traffic below.

Finally, amid the large group of assembled holograms I spotted the target. Just as before, I took my aim, steadying the laser in the very center of the forehead between the top two eyes. I took my shot, easily ending his "life". The rest of the crowd began to shout and scream, pointing accusingly up towards my platform; loud, electronically-enhanced voices shouting about a murder and that the shot "came from up there!"

I quickly turned to Runi, fearful of what would happen. Would I be scolded or asked to leave my Compact? The worst case scenarios rushed through my mind, playing like sped-up vids of dramatic horror stories. He remained stoic while panic started to slip through my body. I shrank down, collapsing the rifle to sling it over my back, then flattened myself onto the floor of the platform. The anxiety continued to grow, a clawed hand gripping to my heart and lungs. What had I done?

"Assignment complete," the recording tunneled through my ringing ears. "Assassination simulation successful. Tissue damage to brain and skull; not repairable. Result; instantaneous death."

It was the same as before. But the finality of this test was converse to how I felt the previous day. I swallowed the tears that were building in my eyes and the moan of despair that was choking me. The sharp pull of my shirt being grabbed to jerk me up forced me back into reality. Runi glowered at me, his dark blue eyes narrowed into black slits.

"Get yourself together!" he hissed and dropped me unceremoniously back down to the platform.

"But I failed…" I murmured in a rough voice.

Runi grabbed the collapsed gun and slung it over his shoulder before standing up.

"You still have a lot to learn, Thane. But you think that you've failed, then, yes, you did. That's your first mistake. Most bad situations can, at a very crucial point, be turned around. Look down below; see the chaos that is erupting."

I glanced down to see the crowd continuing to scream, shout, and panic around the body of the batarian I "killed".

"More often than not you are going to have to assassinate your target when there is a large crowd around. This will cause distress amid the numbers. And when that happens, that is when you have to take your leave before anyone can find you. You must be quick and you must be efficient in every move you make! For one split second, when you kill your target, that is the only time you exist in the public eye. The rest of that time, the hours it may take to chase them, to find the perfect opportunity, you are nothing more than an observant shadow. That's what makes an assassin so deadly and such a threat. A good assassin will never be caught. A great assassin will never have an identity. Do you understand?"

I nodded, continuing to stare down at the crowd before the holograms faded away leaving only the batarian body for me to examine. Runi's speech continued to echo in my mind and I thought long and hard about what he said. I knew that I wanted to be good; that was never a question. But the more I considered it the more I realized that good would never be enough. I wanted to be great; to become a master. It wasn't an issue of ego or a need to feel important. It was simply the idea that I would never be content unless I could claim that accomplishment, and to have a goal. Every ounce of effort, from that moment on, would be placed into transforming myself into a weapon. That was the day the boy "Thane" disappeared and was replaced by a rod of dull steel with the intent of shaping and honing it into a dangerous blade.

Edited by the lovely n7gvlvr  
*author's note* I should point out that, according to my crazy head canon drell who are "marked" such as splotches on their cheeks and skulls, are seen as attractive and those who lack much are more average in regards to "looks". So calling a drell "Unmarked" as Malliyah did to Thane would sort of be calling him "ugly" even though he's not.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

He stopped the car at the central city square and walked toward the large monument which towered over the streets like some kind of protector god. Hands shoved into his pockets to keep from fidgeting, he lifted his chin to gaze upon the familiar face carved into the stone. The statue was a gift from the Earth Alliance as a symbol of their admiration and appreciation for what Kahje provided towards the victory of the Reaper Wars. It was a massive block of green stone, jade the Alliance representative called it, carved into the likeness of his father. The statue of Thane stood pin straight, his arms folded gently at his back, and his eyes stared ahead towards the western shoreline.

It was a generous gift, one that the citizens of Kahje marveled at and even offered small tokens from time to time at the bronze base of the monument to honor the spirit of the assassin turned hero. At first he found it difficult to even go near the statue, but, as time went on and his spiritual wounds healed, Kolyat found comfort in the shadow of the tall sculpture and even viewed it as a way to somehow "see" his father again.

He sat down at the base and patted a hand on the large right foot, smiling to himself.

"I'm reading your journal again," he said quietly. "I just wanted to see your handwriting one more time before I gave it to my eldest son. He deserves to know you. Well, they all do, but I think Deylos would have the most interest in your life."

He fell silent and listened to the rush of the transports and cars fly by on the streets. The sound of children giggling in the nearby park sang through the faint wind that rolled amid the massive dome. He knew Kahje had its problems, just like every other world in the galaxy, but after the end of the Wars there had been a couple of decades where things just fell into a peaceful lull.

He checked the time and noticed that he had a few minutes to spare before he had to be in Vashta City. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled the journal back out and settled against the curve of the feet.

O . . . O . . . O

"When you let go of all that emotion, let go of any attachment, and just become the very core of existing, we call it the Battlesleep," Runi stated as I cleaned my rifle.

My progress learning assassination tactics was beginning to pick up pace. For days at a time I would perform specific tasks in the training arena with the canned commands informing me of my lessons as the only voice in my ears. I was slowly being taught how to push emotion down and hide them behind tough, armored walls; how to look at every situation with pure logic and scientific deduction. While I didn't realize it at the time, learning how to immerse myself into the Battlesleep would prove to be the greatest suit of armor I could ever have. No attachments to friends, no empathy felt towards strangers, nothing that would drag my internal weaknesses out into the open. I would be a pillar of strength and cunning, a tool crafted to perform a very specific job.

"Battlesleep is very much like meditation, only you remain within that state of mind for an undisclosed amount of time. It will keep you calm in the most difficult and dangerous situations. It will allow your head to remain clear and open to all details around you. Your guns, hands, garrote, knives, or any other instrument you utilize for reaching your goal will not be your weapon. They are simply conveniences toward the situation. This…" he pointed to his skull, "this is your weapon. Your brain, when locked in the Battlesleep, will be the most effective and most deadly weapon you could ever have."

At the age of eleven I was nearing the end of my training. Runi assured me that, before long, I would be asked to start performing tasks for the Illuminated Primacy. I was neither nervous nor looking forward to the assignments. The meditation process that put me into the trance of the Battlesleep took that fear and excitement away. There was still much to learn in order to master the deep, waking meditation, but the concept was easy enough for me to understand.

I no longer lived with my family; I had moved in with a few other Primacy agents, mostly pre-adolescent or older children who were Compacted with similar assignments. I wrote letters and participated in vid calls to check in with them. They told me how proud they were of me, but I could see in their eyes, especially my mother's, that they mourned my absence. I tried to smile and let them know I was fine, but I wondered if I was lying just as weakly as they.

I learned that Pallen had begun University, choosing to pursue the path of a teaching career, and had fallen in love with a handsome young man. I had yet to meet the person who had captured my brother's heart and wondered if I ever would. Love was still a foreign concept to me and the closest thing I could relate to was the affection I felt for Malliyah.

I may have even fallen for her if I hadn't concentrated so deeply on the Battlesleep. Once I began to focus my energy towards the technique I started cancelling out most of my emotions. I felt less fear, less anxiety, but more desire to achieve perfection. It didn't take long for me to master firearms. They became too easy of a concept, Runi saw, and took the initiative to teach me other more close-quartered skills involved with assassinations. Thin-bladed daggers lined my jackets and inside my boots. Delicately wired garrotes were tucked inside my pockets. I learned how to craft deadly poisons which were virtually undetectable when placed in drinks or food.

I was also taught how to effectively utilize my biotics; channeling the extra strength they provided to administer death-inducing blows to more formidable targets such as Krogan, Turians, and Yahg. The feeling of the electricity jolting through my body, waking my muscles and nerves into a sort of harmonious, unnerving dance, gave me a high I had never experienced before. With each summons of the energy my sight sharpened, my strength tripled, and I experienced flight through the mass effect fields I conjured. It was sheer, adrenaline-inducing power.

But I knew that I couldn't waste it nor allow myself to become addicted. Biotics, just like every other weapon in my locker, was simply another tool I could utilize for whatever the job at hand required.

One of the unfortunate bits of training was the moments I had to endure out of the comfort of the dome. As you know, my son, our species dislike being wet for too long, unless absolutely necessary, and to be forced to endure the heavy rains which were a constant in the open usually made me contrary and sullen. Just seeing those swollen, turbulent waves of the Encompassing as I sat in the back seat of the transports evoked the uncharacteristic need to pout and complain.

Each time was just as bad as any previous session. Warm, fat, salt-rich rain drops pummeled down onto my hooded head, instantly soaking my clothes. I detested the feel of water dripping off my body or how it would fall off my brow and sting my eyes.

Runi never made the outside training any easier to tolerate. Heavy weights were strapped to my legs and arms, bogging my lightweight body down even further into the saturated sand. I was forced to run along the beach until my muscles burned so intensely that I dropped to the ground. Profanity I view as a mark of a lack of sophistication, and, while I do understand it has its place, I try not to allow myself to indulge in it too much. The beach offered me the opportunity to swear and curse to my cantankerous heart's content.

The ocean water smelled of minerals and decay; the sands irritated my skin and crept into my frill and mouth; and the rain made everything feel heavier. Kelp and sea vines lined the shoreline like slippery nets waiting to trap me and send me tumbling down into the sand which would only rub against my wet skin with such abrasion that I often left those days suffering microscopic cuts which burned like fire when soap made contact.

Gods, how I hated the beaches of Kahje!

Other than the constant training that became my life nothing remarkably eventful occurred from the age of ten to eleven. In fact, I began to feel comfortable with my life. I found a sort of serenity within the training, aside from the torturous days that involved the shoreline. Any time I had to myself was spent reading or sketching random portraits. I was greedy with my free time, drawing into the comfort of solitary company. Although, I rarely ever turned down the moments Malliyah would come to visit.

It was one evening when she came to my room to talk when she revealed a suspicious feeling she had toward Velda Gardeel. True, very few liked her much, but she was still tolerated considering she was the liaison between the assassins, the special operations teams, and the Primacy Servants.

My friend was sitting on the little cot I slept in, watching me sketch her profile when her talkative nature suddenly stopped. I looked up from my work and noticed the apprehensive pout squeezing at her face.

"What is it, Malliyah?" I asked, hoping to bring out the discontent.

She looked me deep in the eyes and scooted closer. I could feel her warm breath against my cheek as she spoke.

"I've got a bad feeling about Velda," she admitted in a soft voice.

"Everyone's got a bad feeling about Velda," I shrugged in hopes that her fears would diminish, but she simply shook her head and began to tug nervously at the jewel weights of her veil.

"No, Thane, this is different. The other day I was working on my anatomy studies and happened to overhear a conversation between Runi and her. He was trying to be calm but she kept hissing at him and calling him cruel names! Worse than what I ever call you! She called him a goo-sack lover and that he trusted the Hanar more than the drell. I've never heard her speak so harshly to him. It frightened me."

I felt my face tense into a scowl and I reached for Malliyah's hands. Everyone knew there was an unspoken dislike between our instructor and Velda, but no one had ever heard any sort of arguing among them.

"It was about you," she continued to whisper. "Velda said that you should be taken out of target prep and put onto the List, but Runi said you needed a couple more years of training just to make sure you were ready for the Hanar's needs. She kept getting angrier and angrier every time Runi refused her demands. And that's when she insulted him. When it was over, he came back in the room, looked at me, and knew I heard them. I didn't say anything. I just kept working on my studies."

The status of an agent's employment for the government was called the List. I had heard of trainees being pulled at early ages to begin their tenure with the Primacy but, according to Runi, the usual age for an assassin to start working in the field was normally fourteen or fifteen. And, while I was confident in my abilities, I wasn't ready to leave the comfort of training.

I gripped tighter to her hands and felt my body tremble. Teeth clenched and eyes forced closed, I summoned the Battlesleep into my mind to calm the anxiety.

_Breathe in, breathe out… calm, serenity… nothing matters but the calm…_

The more I tried to still my body and mind the more afraid I became.

_I'm not ready to join the List! Please, tell me it's not true! Arashu, be my shield!_

Malliyah's cool touch to my cheek brought me out of the panic, and I slowly opened my eyes to look upon her. The bright pink irises darted around as she gazed at my face. Before I could protest, I watched her lips pull into a tight pucker as she leaned in. I felt the warmth of her soft mouth brush against mine, the very faint pull of suction, the awkward angle she chose to go into. The kiss was chaste, quick, unexpected, and yet somehow provided an escape from the panic. I stared at her with aghast and uncertainty but not appalled. My hand reached up to touch my lips which tingled and tickled from the sudden embrace.

She dropped her gaze down to her knees and began to purr affectionately, followed by a girlish giggle. Two of our hands were still clasped together, and I realized the shaking had stopped.

"Did that help?" she asked quietly.

I opened my mouth to answer but couldn't gather enough breath to form sound. Nodding seemed to be the only thing I could do to denote my approval.

"I saw my mother do that to my father once when he was sad. It made him smile. I thought you would like it, and I've wanted to do that ever since we met." She tugged on her veil weights, cracking them against each other with quiet little taps, while she continued to talk. "I like you a lot. You're handsome, like Runi, but different."

I felt the warmth of my blood rush into my jaw and throat. No one had ever called me handsome before; not even Uryah, whom I thought to be my best friend for a few years, ever complimented me. But I realized soon I was to change from a boy into a man and there was nothing I could do to prevent it. The idea unsettled me just as much as it excited. Growing up meant independence and having a discernible identity. Perhaps my first kiss was the start of that process.

"I, um, I like you, too, Malliyah," I admitted.

She smiled brightly and laughed as she lunged into my arms to hug me tightly. For a moment I allowed her company and kindness, and my admiration for her, to push away the fear of the dark, rising pillar of my upcoming future.

Little did I know that the small fragment of happiness between Malliyah and me would be so short-lived.

A few days later my door was nearly beaten down by her mad rapping. I opened it to find her weeping loudly, tears pouring down her little face. She rushed into my room and huddled into a far corner. I watched her rock back and forth, keeping my distance, until she finally spoke.

"Something's very wrong with Runi," she murmured through her sobbing. "I found him at his desk this morning, and he looked like he was asleep. I went to wake him up, but he wouldn't! I don't think he's okay."

She looked up at me with eyes full of fear and confusion. I knelt down, wiped her eyes, and held her close in an attempt to comfort her. Her hands clutched to my shoulders and back, gripping me tightly with all her strength. I could feel her nails pinch into my skin.

"I'll go check on him, okay? You wait in here and try to calm down," I assured and proceeded to wrap a blanket around her shoulders before I left the room.

In the hallway of the residential apartments were secret compartments where agents, both trainees and Listed, kept a variety of weapons hidden for "just in case" situations. I located a crack within my door jamb and grabbed a set of thin-bladed daggers which I favored for carrying and tucked them into my boots before making my way toward the small training room.

The door was wide open, an anomaly which immediately sent me into high alert. The scent of Runi's morning tea filled the area. I crept into the room slowly, noticing that Malliyah's datapad was on the floor. Runi I immediately spotted, sitting at his desk, with his head bowed and shoulders slumped. I grabbed one of my daggers and continued to approach my teacher who appeared to be asleep. His mug had been dropped to the floor with the remainder of his drink puddled and running along the cracks in the tiles.

As I moved closer, my observational training began to settle into my mind. His chest wasn't rising or falling with breath. There was no faint twitching of any kind to denote dreaming. I reached for his hand, shuddered at the cold feel of his flesh, and searched for a pulse in his wrist.

There was nothing.

I choked on my breath as I stumbled back, jerking on the wrist still locked in my grip, and swallowed the scream that started up my throat. The lifeless weight of my teacher's body buckled and dropped to the floor in a sick thud. My ears began to ring, and I fell to my knees while I continued to stare at the crumpled form of the dead man. The dagger slid out of my fist, tinkling softly on the tiled floor.

"Help…" I whispered, my eyes locked on the large lump of cold flesh, begging that he get up to his feet and walk away.

But he didn't.

I felt my throat begin to expand in preparation for a loud cry for assistance. The sound of my own shrill scream caused me to cringe, and the tears I had held back finally fell from my eyes. I couldn't stop them, nor could I stop the pain-wracked sob of mourning that escaped my lips.

"Help! Please, anyone!" I begged in a loud shout.

The world around me tunneled in a dim, two dimensional facade of reality. I knew that someone had lifted me up and there were voices asking if I was alright. But the extreme fear and panic that held me in a kind of cold stasis kept me from responding or reacting.

"Get him out of here! Take him to the medic on staff!" I heard someone command. I turned my head back around and through my blurred sight watched as a fellow special ops agent, whose name I had yet to learn, gently turned Runi over. His jaw dropped open and allowed his tongue to loll out of his mouth, and I screamed before burying my head against my protector's shoulder.

"Don't look, Thane, don't look," a gentle voice whispered. "Go into the Battlesleep."

When I finally came to my senses, many interesting thoughts filled my mind; many queries about how this could've possibly happened. Runi was an assassin; even after the decades he no longer served the Hanar as one, the training and skills never left. He was in good physical health as far as I knew. There had been rumors of Keprals developing in several out-of-service agents but he didn't show any signs of the disease.

There were no signs of strangulation, and it would've been nearly impossible to pull that kind of stunt over without alerting anyone. No stab wounds or spilled blood was seen, no bullet wounds were detected either. But there was one thing that made me perk up in the small emergency room of the med bay; the mug of spilled tea.

I dashed out of the room, much to the medic's warning of "Young Sere, get back in here!", and headed for the classroom. Holographic crime scene tape blocked off the entrance but I had learned an interesting trick to get past them; it involved a dagger and angling it just so to reflect the laser feed against the metal. Carefully, I slid the blade against the projector and watched the holograph disappear. I tiptoed into the room and was lucky enough to discover that the spill had not been cleaned. There was a packet of tissues kept in Runi's desk, mainly for Malliyah who suffered a few minor allergies. I dabbed a small amount of the tea into the tissue and carefully placed it in my pocket.

After retrieving my dagger, I rushed back toward the residential area to check if Malliyah was still in my room. She had left, probably escorted to somewhere safe, but it gave me an opportunity to do some private investigating on my own.

Beneath my cot was a poisons tester kit Runi had given to me once I started learning how to mix my own brand of toxins. I watched the few drops of detecting solution I dripped onto the tissue go from the pale yellow of the tea to a vivid purple. A sick feeling entered my gut, but this time I had enough sense to summon the Battlesleep meditation before my anxiety returned.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing, yet the evidence was hard to dismiss. The substance that had killed my teacher and friend was a concentrated form of neurotoxin secreted by only one very specific species, and it would've been almost too easy to collect: Hanar.

*Edited by n7gvlvr... Go read her stuff.*


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

When he glanced back down at the time, Kolyat's dark gray eyes widened as he realized that if he didn't leave the square he would be late picking up his son. Not that Deylos would admonish him, but he was a stickler for being on schedule. The journal was safely tucked back into the inside pocket of his jacket.

He allowed himself to drift in and out of old memories from his youth, recalling happier moments spent with his father. His raspy chuckle became a child-like giggle as he felt Thane's hands grip him around the waist before being gently tossed into the air. He could smell the scent of springtime spice lilies from a bouquet his father had given his mother earlier that day. Music was playing in the background; a fast-paced, merry tune with a woman singing in a high, cheerful voice.

He watched his father cross his large, green eyes before puffing out his cheeks, making him laugh heartily. When he was actually around, he was attentive and fun and just as much a child as Kolyat was in those days.

"Let's dance!" he clapped his hands.

Without missing a beat, he quickly spun him around. Kolyat fell back in his grip and flung out his arms, fingertips combing through the air.

"I'm getting dizzy!" he giggled again.

Thane dropped to his knees, his son still in his arms, and rolled onto his back, pretending to have fainted. The boy laughed again and playfully slapped his father's face.

"Wake up, father…"

The memory flashed into a moment where the fainting wasn't feigned.

He slapped him hard on the cheek, panic chilling his body. The hot, burning heat coming from the planet's lone sun did nothing to warm him during those few terrifying moments. He slapped him again, calling out in hopes that he would wake.

"Father! Father, please! Godsdamn it, Thane, wake up!"

Thane's eyes began to flutter open, and he groaned weakly as a hand lifted to his head. Kolyat glanced over at the dark orange stone his father had fallen upon. Red blood marked the rough surface where his skull had made contact.

"We need to get back to the Citadel," he whispered as he grabbed one of his father's handkerchiefs out of a pocket and gently placed it over the bleeding wound.

"Did- you see the scorpion, son?" Thane murmured weakly. "Such an effective killer…"

Tears burned his eyes and he held him close as he looked back towards the east where their transport waited.

"Hold on, Father. I need to get you back to the car…"

He woke up from the memory just in time to watch his transport exit the dome and soar over the long bridges that connected the city islands to each other. Rain poured down over the vehicle's body, blurring the image of the seemingly endless horizon of the Encompassing.

A hand went to the pocket holding the journal. He laughed to himself and shook his head.

_Just a few more minutes, son; grant me just a few more minutes and then you can let go of my words,_the soft voice coaxed him.

"Alright, Father. I'll give you that," he murmured and went to finish the journal entry he stopped on.

O . . . O . . . O

Joy pulsed slowly and swayed from side to side on her tentacles, denoting that what I had just showed her, in the secret of her office, had her disturbed and worried.

"This is troubling," she glowed. "This is so very unexpected and troubling."

For a few days I held off showing anyone what I discovered, fearing that whoever targeted Runi would come after Malliyah and me. Due to the unforeseen events, an older assassin had been pulled off the List to act as a temporary tutor to us. While she was kind, she was also just as confused. Malliyah ended up making her own lessons schedule and I continued to work in the training arena with the preprogrammed exercises. Runi's death had the whole section of special ops thrown into chaos and disarray, not to mention everyone keeping their eyes open and their backs protected.

"A death made to look like a Hanar killed a drell," she mused as she walked. "I never saw any indication of Runi suffering depression, therefore I can't in good conscious say it was suicide. Outside the Primacy, I was told he had a comfortable life. He had a family; he seemed content."

I mourned the loss of my teacher. Runi was viewed as a second father to me and to know that he was gone hit me hard. The funeral held for him at the shoreline was short, attended by a few, including Malliyah and me. As the Hanar sang to bid his soul farewell, I watched his family out of the corner of my eye. His wife, a tall and slender woman, held her daughter close as they wept. The girl looked to be around my age. Her eyes met mine for a brief second, heavy tears mixing with the salty rain drops, before I turned away to watch the funeral assistants gently, reverently, slide Runi's sea vine-covered body into the ocean waves.

"Malliyah overheard a conversation between Runi and Velda a while ago," I offered.

Joy's head swung around to regard me, softly shimmering with thought before speaking.

"Bring Young Sana to me, if you will. I want to hear what she witnessed."

I bowed in agreement then went to find my friend.

Malliyah's relationship to the Hanar, I learned, was rather different than mine. Her contact Servant was nowhere as friendly or open as Joy was to me and when she learned just how close I had befriended Yealtka (for I never used the Soul Name outside the privacy of the conversations shared between Joy and me) she was awed and even a bit jealous.

Yealtka greeted Malliyah kindly, reverting back to her typical formal speech.

"This one is honored that you agreed to speak with it, Young Sana," she bobbed politely.

Malliyah bowed with some hesitation. I had yet to tell her that I discovered how he died but there were rumors circulating around our division. The news of Runi being poisoned by a Hanar traveled faster than it could be contained which made many agents and trainees instantly afraid and distrusting of the Hanar. She was among that crowd.

"Um, yeah," she mumbled while keeping close to me.

Yealtka approached closer and gently folded her tentacles beneath her body as she sat down. I watched Malliyah's eyes widen with slight shock. Few Hanar ever allowed themselves to be casual with "outsiders", but Yealtka was always different. She had a soft spot for children, I discovered early on in my relationship with her.

"Young Sere Thane was telling this one that you overheard a conversation between Sere Edarnos and Sana Gardeel. Would you mind sharing what you witnessed?"

Malliyah looked to me for help, fear in her eyes, but I nodded in reassurance and took her hand in mine. She swallowed loudly then began to tell her what she had told me.

Yealtka listened patiently, glowing ever so softly to help keep my friend calm as she spoke. When Malliyah finished, there was a long pause from my Hanar Servant contact. Her head drooped sadly as she returned to standing.

"Young Sana, this one thanks you for your time. You may return to your previous engagements. Omir will escort you."

Malliyah hugged me tightly before she left the office. I stared down at my feet, an ominous feeling creeping through my mind. Joy lifted my chin, and I noticed that her bioluminescence wasn't nearly as bright as I was used to. It was somber, dull, and I realized she was both afraid and despondent.

"I was in agreement with Runi when it came to your time of taking your place on the list. You are still so very young, Thane; still very much a small child. But you've already proven your competence. It pains me terribly to say this, and I ask that you don't hold anger towards me for this remarkably difficult decision that I must make, but I need to promote you to the List."

I knew this day would come, but I had no idea that it would be so soon and certainly not after Runi's death.

The cold touch of panic crawled through me.

"But I'm not ready," I replied in a weak voice.

Joy placed her two front tentacles on my shoulder and brushed the tip of her head against my scalp.

"You are ready; you are, in fact, more than ready. But in lieu of the events, which you will be privy to once your codename is placed on the list, I have no choice. You know too much already by showing me the tissue with the neurotoxin. From this moment on, you are now an agent in the service of one Yealtka, Special Operations Division Servant for the Illuminated Primacy. You will report to me for your missions and later to explain your successes or failures."

I found myself bowing deeply, dropping to one knee, before her. I should've been deep within the throes of anxiety. However, contrary to what should've happened, I felt my heart swell with pride.

"I will not fail you, Shimmers With Joy Beneath the Waves."

Joy glowed softly and gripped my shoulder tighter.

"I do hope you can promise that, Thane."

For a year, not much changed once my name was put on the List. I still went through my daily exercises in the training arena; I still had my evening visits with Malliyah. What did change was the way I interacted with many of the agents. There was an unspoken camaraderie among us, a chance to connect through stories about families, likes, and dislikes; but the number one rule of Listed agents was to never speak about your contracts. It was a subject that was considered "Top Secret" and only mentioned in the privacy of Cabinet meetings or with our Primacy Servant contacts.

When I broke the news of my "promotion" to Malliyah, I wasn't surprised that it deeply upset her. She sobbed openly, fearing the worst for me. My arms ached as she gripped tightly to them and my shirt was quickly saturated from her dripping nose and eyes.

"No, no, no!" she wept. "They said fourteen or fifteen, not eleven! They can't put you on the List yet!"

I purred gently at her in hopes of easing her anger and fear. She looked back up at me with her puffy, wet face and I took a moment to examine her features. My sweet, little Malliyah; so innocent, so exuberant, so full of life and cheer, she was wondrously beautiful to me in that moment. I wiped a tear off her cheek and placed a soft kiss over the damp spot it left.

"I'll still be here," I promised. "I'm not going anywhere right now."

She sniffled and nodded, choking on her sobs as she tried to calm down. With her fingers weaving between mine, she held my hands firmly and I could feel her body trembling.

"No matter where you go, or what we're told to do, even if we have to go away from each other, you will always be my best friend, Thane," she tried to smile.

I nodded in agreement and proclaimed the same. There were so few people who made a positive impression in my life and Malliyah would always stand out as one of the first.

As time went on, more speculations about Runi's murder continued to pile up into frayed rumors and gossip. Some still blamed the Hanar while others mentioned a group of unnamed drell supremacists who were centralized within the Primacy. I kept a close eye on Velda Gardeel as my main suspect. It's true, that often times logic rules over intuition, but when all else failed I always trusted my gut. And Velda often left my stomach feeling unsettled.

My twelfth Day of Naming began a new era for me, for not only did I receive my first contract through Joy but my gifts from her and several other Primacy Servants and fellow agents ranged from high-powered rifles to easily concealable pistols to my very first stealth suit. The thick, tight leather was, at first, uncomfortable and cumbersome.

My first fitting required assistance from a fellow Listed assassin who claimed that I would "live" in the suit and favor it over other garments. I didn't even feel like I was a legitimate Compacted agent until I faced the mirror in my tiny room and gazed upon my reflection. I grabbed at the jacket's wide collar, pulling it to tighten the fit around my thin shoulders. How small and unseemly I looked! I tried standing up straight, an attempt to look bigger and taller than my boyish frame allowed. The effect was ridiculous and I groaned in dismay just as my door was knocked upon.

Malliyah entered, carrying a small sugarmelon cake and a wrapped gift. Her eyes widened as she gazed upon my appearance and she nearly backed out until I coaxed her inside.

"You-you're in The Suit," she murmured shyly.

I shrugged and sat down on my cot, still uneasy about how tight the garments were. She slid the small package over to me and remained uncharacteristically quiet.

"Malliyah," I smiled and reached for her hands. "I'm still me."

"No, you're not! Not anymore. But you don't see that, do you? You're about to go out into the world, into the galaxy maybe, and kill for the Hanar. You won't have an identity, or a name, or a life. You belong to the government now."

"It's not like that-"

"Yes, it is," she shot a dark glare. "We think we're prepared for this, the years put into all the training and the meditations to keep our heads level, but how do you think you're going to feel when you finally pull the trigger on your first real, living target?"

"I'm not required to think," I argued back. "I was chosen because I fit a very specific criterion."

"And so was I. But the thought still frightens me."

I fell silent as I felt her hands slip out of mine. She apologized and offered me the cake, smiling weakly through her sadness.

"My father made it. I told him what today is."

We ate the little cake in silence.

Time came for me to put the years of training and preparing to the true test. Days after my visit with my friend, I received a message on my assignment console which had been silent since I was Listed. I had chosen a simple, somewhat out-dated song I favored listening to while I practiced in the training arena to act as my personal ring tone. Calmly, I tapped on my omnitool and watched the information pour out before my eyes in the typical orange-lit interface.

"Codename: Venom," I read my designation in the bold characters and realized that this wasn't some kind of drill. "IP Contact: Yealtka (Face Name), Head of Compacted Special Operations Divisions, Illuminated Primacy Servant of the Enkindlers. Contract: Hiscie Fallos, Drell, Male, 42 SGY. City of residence: New Rakhana. Subject assignment: Assassination."

My first target was a crime lord who had taken over several docking bays, forcing poor fishermen to pay in order to step back onto land. The police couldn't touch him and several officers had been killed by the criminal's men. With so many fishermen and their families affected by the cruelty, the Primacy decided to take matters into their own hands, meaning mine.

He was said to frequent a certain tavern in the evenings, owned by him of course, and could be seen leaving the establishment drunk and abusive towards others. There were even reports of his "followers" disliking the way he handled business. The more information I was given the more I wanted to go after him. Piles of reports involving theft, murder, rape, credits laundering, and bribery took days to read through. This was the kind of person I wanted to rid the universe of; this was the reason I accepted my Compact.

I was taken to the location of the tavern where I waited high above the establishment hidden in the rafters of the boat docks. The rain pummeled down on me, but, thanks to the leather armor, I didn't get nearly as wet as I would have if I wore regular citizen's clothes. I had a small, but powerful, sniper rifle collapsed at my back, ready to be loaded. The rafters were tight and uncomfortable, but I was small enough to fit perfectly against a sharp angle along the edge, hidden well within the dark shadows.

The time spent waiting for my target felt like hours. I knew he was inside; I could hear his raspy, drunken chortle through the thin walls of the tavern. But, as luck would have it, he left the building alone and staggering along the docks. I pulled out the rifle, sighting in my scope as quickly as I could, and fired up the spotting laser.

Runi's voice echoed in my brain, like a comforting ghost to keep me locked within the Battlesleep as I focused my energy into my first legitimate assassination.

_This is your purpose in life, Thane. There is much darkness around us. You must be a gateway into bringing us closer to the light._

For a brief second, I felt afraid and unsure. I didn't know if I could pull it off, even with Runi's teachings to guide me. My hands began to tremble, making the picture within the scope wobble and blur.

_Maybe Malliyah wasright_, I thought to myself in that moment. _Maybe we're meant to feel this kind of fear._

But, suddenly, I felt the need to pray. I wanted to feel serenity and to know that what I was doing was good and just. I recalled a prayer told to me by the temple priests murmured by the long-lost King's Warriors from Rahkana before they went into battle. The words were simple, quick, but projected so much. In my desperation to regain my calm, I whispered them to myself as I continued to look down the scope, watching the red dot bounce against my target's skull.

"Amonkira, Lord of Hunters; grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet swift."

The lull of the Battlesleep started to return. My finger hovered over the trigger just enough to feel the faint curve fall against my skin. The parallax cleared.

"And should the worst come to pass…"

I grit my teeth and took a steady breath. The time had come to prove my worth.

"Grant me forgiveness."

The shot fired was muffled by the suppressor, but the harsh jerk of the buttstock against my shoulder threw me back into the corner. The world seemed to stop turning, and I opened my mouth to breath in the wet air. I pulled the scope back up to my eye and gazed down at the body lying on the docks. Carefully, I slipped down out of the rafters and stalked towards my target. Skull fragments and brain matter scattered across the dock not far from where he lay. The rain took care of the blood pooling out of the entrance and exit wounds, bright red even in my dulled visual spectrum. My training had served me and the Primacy well. It was a clean, painless kill, one I should've been proud of in that moment.

I blinked myself back into the present and finished my job by capturing visual evidence. In haste, I captured a holo of him with my omnitool as proof of my mission's completion, then ran back towards the dome before anyone else came out of the tavern. Once out of the torrential rains, I hid in an alleyway, brain awash with mixed emotions.

_My gods,_I though with some awe and disbelief. _I just killed a man!_

Runi's voice came rushing back into my mind to scold me.

_No, you did not kill a man, Thane! _The deep grumbling voice growled in my subconscious. _Your government asked you to act as a tool to eliminate a threat to the citizens of your homeworld. You did nothing wrong and you aren't to take any blame. Understand?_

"Yes, Runi," I whispered to the dark.

I caught a transport back to the headquarters and walked towards Joy's office to show her the holo of my target's death. Malliyah passed me in the hallway, her pink eyes wide with fear as she looked me up and down. She ran a hand over my still wet arm, pulling slightly on my fingertips before pulling away.

"You did it, didn't you?" she asked in hushed tones.

My first instinct was to tell her everything, why I needed to do what I was asked to do. But I couldn't answer her. My eyes dropped to the floor as I bit down hard on my lips.

"You just answered my question," her tone dropped sullenly. She shook her head, veil weights cracking quietly, and turned away from me.

A lump formed in my throat as I watched her start back down the hallway.

"Malliyah," I called after her, but she never responded. My friend walked away from me, and I began to cry.

*Edited by n7gvlvr... She's so nice to me!*


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Kolyat waited at the dock and watched the passengers step off the shuttle to retrieve their luggage and meet with loved ones. His stony features broke into a wide, joyous smile when he spotted the tall, green-skinned figure of his son saunter off the platform and head to the baggage retrieval.

"Deylos" he greeted him with a tight hug. "Good to have you home, son."

Deylos smiled warmly and peered over Kolyat's shoulder as though he were looking for someone else.

"Did you come alone?"

"I did," Kolyat nodded and attempted to pick up the heavy dufflebag, grunting with strain from the unexpected weight.

Deylos chuckled and swung the bag over his shoulder as though it weighed next to nothing.

"I don't like this getting old business," his father grumbled and rubbed his arm with chagrin. "Not what I used to be, that's for sure. How was the trip?"

"Typical," he shrugged. "Mostly business folks, a few vacationers; nothing rather remarkable to describe. Everyone else is well?"

"Of course. Your mother is planning dinner tomorrow with the whole family. Which is the reason why I met you here alone. I thought we could spend some time together as father and son. I rarely get a chance to just talk to you."

Deylos regarded Kolyat with curiosity, then snorted a chuckle.

"I've never really known you to be talkative, Father. And neither am I, for that matter."

"Yes, I know," Kolyat nodded. "I suppose that lately I've been feeling a bit wistful."

Curiosity and concern filled his eyes as he looked up at his son.

"Are you alright?" Deylos finally asked when they settled into the car. The vehicle accelerated to top speed as it exited the Vashta City dome and headed back towards New Rakhana.

"I'm fine, son. I've just been doing some thinking recently. I started going through Father's things, trying to figure out what to hand off to you and your siblings. He didn't have a lot, but what he did leave behind was important to him."

"Such as…"

"Books written by your great grandfather, a few weapons he had customized to his liking, his altar box, and this," he pulled the journal out of his pocket.

Intrigue immediately filled Deylos' bright teal eyes when the journal was placed on his lap.

"What is this?"

"His journal. He wrote it during his stay at Huerta before he passed away. I guess he wanted me to know about his life first-hand."

Deylos flipped through the pages, noticing the elegant script that was his grandfather's handwriting. With each passing page his smile grew.

"There's quite a lot here, isn't there? And I take it you've read it already?"

"It took a long time before I could bring myself to read about his life," Kolyat admitted. "Your sister was barely two years old and your mother was pregnant with you by the time I was able to open it. But I discovered that I truly didn't know a thing about him until I read this. He had quite an interesting life. All the times I thought that he was emotionless or didn't care, this told me otherwise. He was much more complex than I once considered."

"He was an artist?" there was a faint gasp as Deylos noticed a few pages with sketches of the acquaintances he made on the Normandy.

"Yes, an amateur like you are. He had a lot of hidden talents, a lot of secrets I never discovered until I started reading that."

"Amazing…" Deylos whispered. "May I read it?"

"Actually, you can have it," Kolyat revealed. "I had planned on giving it to you anyway."

He was enfolded into his son's long, thick arms from the unexpected embrace.

"Thank you. I will treasure it."

"I know you will," Kolyat smiled and patted Deylos' shoulder. "But, before we get home, I want to stop and grab lunch. I know those starships don't have outstanding food served on board, so I thought you'd like to maybe have a bite as well."

"Lunch sounds like a great idea."

"Good! I was hoping you would agree. I also want to hear about the trip. It's been many years since I stepped foot onto the Citadel."

Deylos barely listened to his father's ramblings about his time in C-Sec while he continued to flip through the journal. Chapters upon chapters of letters addressing his father flipped past his fingertips. His grandfather was as much of a mystery to him as he seemed to be to everyone in his family. But, unlike his brother and sister, who viewed Thane as nothing more than a connection to the Reaper Wars, Deylos was desperate to know more. What made him leave his Compact agreement? Why did he agree to join Commander Shepard's mission? Did he befriend anyone and was there ever another significant other in his life besides his wife? Perhaps this journal had the answers he was seeking.

He found the business card marking the place Kolyat had stopped and allowed his eyes to scan the page. But his curiosity didn't allow him to close the book and devote attention to Kolyat; instead he found that he was drawn into the story…

O . . . O . . . O

My son,

I'd like to continue to share with you the difficulties I experienced being a government-trained assassin. During the time I was not locked into a contract, I'll admit, life was comfortable. I had a place to live, food to eat, money to my name, and plenty of acquaintances who shared similar experiences. But it was never easy.

Despite every effort I put into my missions, not every assassination was a clean kill. Sometimes more than one shot would be needed, resulting in the head blasted clean off the target's neck. Collateral damage was a risk, varying from either blood stains on the streets to viscera flying onto nearby crowds and causing chaos and disgust- and, even on a few occasions, injuries to myself. Broken bones from falls or near misses became commonplace. Scars began to form on my back and extremities from wounds that weren't properly dealt with in time. There were even times I suffered serious infections from untreated injuries, high fevers which lead to frightening hallucinations and the feel of being so cold I trembled, but thankfully the advances in medicine healed me quickly enough that I wasn't ill for long.

My relationship with Malliyah was considered friendly, but I could sense fear from her. She was still training and wouldn't be Listed for another four or five years, depending how her studies advanced. She was also rather outspoken about her dislike for her purpose, growing more and more untrusting of the Hanar due to the lack of Runi's case being solved.

As for my teacher's murder, there was no additional evidence found. Velda had been interrogated several times, but with each session of questioning she supplied the same answers and even had an alibi. She had not been found guilty. I had my own doubts, of course, but I had done enough interfering in the investigation by finding the poison in Runi's tea. My job was not to snoop.

Malliyah, though, was too impatient to let things follow their intended course. She brought up Runi's death frequently during our evening conversations, even mentioning that she had thought about starting her own investigation.

"I don't think it's such a good idea," I said when she first mentioned looking into the case. "There are people whose job it is to study crimes. We're at the opposite end of that spectrum."

My friend's face scrunched into her typical obstinate pout, long front teeth pressing down against her bottom lip.

"Doesn't it bother you that no one claims to know anything?" she shook her head. "Your friend and mine, even if he was our teacher, was killed. Murdered! You can't look at me in all honesty and tell me that it doesn't bother you, because I know you! You get extremely quiet and pensive when something irritates you, and lately you've been doing exactly that!"

"I've had a lot on my mind," I brooded.

I had discovered that my family's lives were moving on without me. My brother was nearing his second year of University, still determined to become a teacher, and still very much in love. My father had finished publishing a bestseller novel which gave him a newfound - and surprising - success. A large party, full of celebrities, politicians, and members of the elite society, was held in his honor. I was not there to help them celebrate.

A year had passed since my tutor's death, and I had taken on three contracts since my first assignment. They were simple enough- simple for an experienced assassin, yet they tasked me all the same. My second contract was related to my first; the henchman's personal bodyguard. I wanted to exterminate him in a similar fashion to how I did my very first time, but it was not meant to be.

No one suspects that a child, even one who was coming of age and soon to approach manhood, could ever willingly kill someone out in the open. Shadows and silence are an assassin's closest friends. They become partners in crime, lovers even. And while I reveled in the company that those two brought me, there were times that I could not relax in their comfort.

Such was the case with the second target.

The only way I could finish my job was to take him down in the middle of a festival. There were no high rise buildings to perch from, no dark corners to hide in. There were, however, lots of children running through the fair grounds, and I took advantage of that.

My arsenal was a simple dagger coated in poison. One quick jab to his side and he would be down in a matter of seconds. It was potent, terribly painful for a moment, but killed quickly. I ran through the crowds just as many other children were, their voices screamed and shouted with joy over the sounds of music and the dull roar of the crowd. He never stayed in one spot for long, making my chase take longer than I wished.

I acted like I randomly bumped into him due to not paying attention. In one quick motion, I had the dagger's pommel in my hand and the blade in his side. He grunted in pain and swiped me away. The dagger was promptly stuck back into my boot and I gave a quick "sorry, Sere," before I skipped away. The sound of a woman screaming as he collapsed to the ground told me that the poison had worked. I spun on my heels and watched him twitch and tremble in his last few seconds of life. Quickly grabbing a holo of his death, I scrambled out of the curious crowds and ran back towards the Special Ops headquarters to give my report.

Malliyah was waiting for me to return to my room. She was leaning against my door wearing a wry smirk on her face.

"I found out something interesting I think you'd like to hear," she taunted.

I didn't respond. Even if I didn't want to hear what she had to say, she was going to share it with me.

"I've been listening in on conversations between certain Compacted agents and their IP Servants and found out some pretty deep stuff. Did you know that there is a drell supremacist movement based here in New Rakhana?"

I still refused to speak. Yes, I knew that fact, but I didn't want to provoke her hobby of crime scene investigator for fear she would be hurt. Despite my silence she continued.

"Did you also know that our least favorite person is a member of that group?"

I could no longer hide my curiosity, and I quickly pushed her into my room in case someone else had heard her. The door was locked and Malliyah was forced to sit on my cot.

"Didn't I tell you not to go poking your frill into other peoples' business?" I hissed.

She shot a cold glare at me, jerking me down to sit next to her.

"I don't see you doing anything to help figure out who killed Runi," she argued.

"I'm not in the most convenient position to be doing that! Being Listed doesn't give me any more authority than what I had as a trainee. I don't have the privilege of free will to be going around asking questions. I do what I am told."

Malliyah sighed sadly and closed her eyes.

"This is what I have to look forward to; a life of servitude to a bunch of weak, aquatic creatures. Even if the Hanar didn't kill Runi, this is still all their fault."

"What?! Why would you say that?"

"Because it's true!"

"Malliyah, we owe our very existence to them!"

"I don't need another history lesson making them out to be heroes! That was two hundred years ago! Should we continue to be their slaves because of some antique promise made to them?" she shook her head and waved a hand at me. "Look at you! Dressed as a killer pawn; being made to murder people for them!"

"Do you hear yourself?! Are you a drell supremacist now?" I accused.

"Of course not! But, you know something? A lot of what I heard them say made sense. The hanar tell us that we are able to become just as successful as we want to be in Kahje just as long as they get credit for it! Compacted agents are supposed to have a life of our own but we have to answer to them! And even if we do get out of the Compact, what then? What kind of life lays ahead for us? We don't know anything else but this! How would we ever be normal?"

Anger filled me, and I stood up to open the door.

"I think you should leave, please."

I couldn't watch her walk out of my room. While I would always view her as my closest friend, I knew I was about to lose her.

"Just in case you were wondering, that person I mentioned is Velda who apparently hired a chemist to create a large quantity of concentrated Hanar toxin. And if you would like to know how I found that out, Velda isn't very good at hiding evidence; especially since she leaves her console open in her office."

I closed the door as soon as she left and dropped onto my cot. I should have wept. I should have thrown a tantrum and punched at my pillow all while screaming. Instead, I meditated myself into the Battlesleep and lost any remaining traces of feelings.

My time as an assassin seemed to meld into one long moment. Minutes didn't matter, hours didn't matter, even the years didn't matter. I no longer indentified myself as an individual despite what Joy tried to tell me or how much she claimed to adore the young man I had become. The name my parents gave me meant nothing. I was a designation, a code name. There was no Thane Krios. There was only the weapon known as Venom.

I finished my contracts quickly, demanding for more to be assigned to me. Joy could only give me so many which meant the time I wasn't performing my duties to the Primacy I locked myself away in my room and either read as many books as I could or drew portraits. Some were of the people I knew within the headquarters, namely Malliyah, Runi, and Joy, or the death masks of my targets. I kept my art tucked away in a footlocker in hopes no one would dare cross the boundaries of my privacy and see them.

By the time I was fourteen, I no longer spoke to my family despite Joy mentioning that they had tried to contact me. She would throw me little messages from time to time about them; she thought it was necessary that I know what was going on in their lives. I learned that my father's success continued to grow and my brother was preparing to pledge wedding vows to the nameless young man he had met in college. Any other attempts at contacting me I refused. It wasn't that I lost love for them; I felt that I was no longer a part of that world, and to still cling to something I didn't understand was foolish in my eyes.

I also understood that I was becoming an adult, but the slow changes to my body didn't affect me. From watching some of the other boys drift into the realm of adolescence, I knew that things would become different in some way, but I was so consumed in the Battlesleep and my need to constantly be working that the typical awkwardness and emotions which announced to others my current physical state never made much of an impact on me. My voice deepened and my body accumulated thicker muscle mass.

I wasn't the tallest assassin on the list, but I was gaining a reputation as the fastest. I used that fact to my advantage. Where others had to wait to slip away from crowded situations, I easily escaped before being noticed. I also gained the nickname among the others as "Automaton", due to my antisocial and bland behavior. There was no need for me to become friendly, I thought. I had already lost two friends; I didn't need to allow myself to lose anymore.

My life fell into a steady, predictable lull. Contract, search, exterminate. Contract, search, exterminate. Joy mentioned her worry for me, even offered me a vacation to, as she said, cleanse myself and restore peace back into my life. I declined her offer, of course. There was no need for me to relax.

I was woken by a scream one evening. Snapping to attention and grabbing a nearby pistol, I rushed out my door to see the other assassins also standing in the hallway, armed and confused. Muttered questions swarmed quietly throughout the group. There were also lots being drawn to see who dared to investigate who had made the ear-piercing shriek and why. I didn't wait to see who drew the short string, and I began to make my way toward the office floor below. My name was being shouted as I ran to the elevator.

A small crowd had gathered in the main concourse of the office floor, mostly Hanar assistants. Tears poured down their faces along with quick-paced words of fear and anger muddled by sobs. I passed them by slowly at first, then found myself in a fast jog as I noticed Omir crouching before Joy's door. His fists were pressed against his lips and he stared straight ahead, not even acknowledging my presence.

I never asked what happened, but somehow I knew before I even opened that door. The office was lit by the soft, luminescent glow of the floating globes which glided around the space of the room. No music was playing on her console, which she always liked to have on. The silence made every step I took echo loudly.

My hands slackened and trembled, and the pistol fell from my grip, cracking on the tiles. I stared at the dull pink blob of shapeless gel quivering on the floor near the Encompassing entrance. A thick puddle of clear plasma lay under the deflated mass of tissue. An overwhelming urge to vomit hit me, forcing me to back against the wall and retch. The scent of my stomach's contents caused me to choke on dry heaves but nothing more came out.

The door reopened and two other assassins entered, openly shocked to see the same thing I did.

"By the Enkindlers… who would do such a thing?!" one cursed and approached the body of the dead hanar.

"Same as the others, I take it?" the second asked. "Sliced open and left to bleed to death."

'Others?', I wondered. I ran out of the room and dashed into the next office to see three other assistants mourning over the body of a Servant. Four more offices revealed the same scenario. Six Servants, including my contact and only confidante Shimmers With Joy Beneath the Waves, were murdered.

I found myself standing in the middle of the concourse feeling lost and disconnected. A cool hand touched my bare shoulder and I turned to see Malliyah standing next to me. She had changed; her girlish features were evolving into a budding womanhood. Her teeth weren't nearly as bucked over her bottom lip and her freckles had begun to fade from her nose.

Without saying a word, I slid my hand into hers and pulled her close against me. She wept quietly on my chest while I kept hold of her.

*edited by n7gvlvr and Spyke1985. Thank you, my friends!*


	8. Chapter 8

***Trigger warning: the following chapter contains descriptions of physical and sexual abuse from a first person perspective. Reader's discretion is advised.***

Chapter 8

I sat on the edge of the dock and watched the turbulent ocean swell and contract beneath my feet. I couldn't understand what was happening, how these crimes seemed to slip between the fingers of the tight security that safeguarded the headquarters. A master assassin, poisoned to death. Six members of the Primacy, gutted like market fish. There were too many gaping holes that no one could seem to understand.

I knew that this unknown supremacist group had something to do with all the murders, but I didn't know where to start looking, or even if I had any right to do so. For the moment, I was lost. I had no contact, no purpose. And I wasn't alone. The Listed agents who were connected to the dead hanar were in the same position as me; hanging on to loose ends and hoping that their posts would soon be restored.

Other than Malliyah, who kept her distance from me most of the time, I had no one. The lack of having any contracts made me nervous. I paced the halls frequently, continued to read or draw; anything that kept my mind off of Joy's and Runi's deaths.

But then, one day, the console played my contact song and I immediately came to attention. I was requested to visit an IP Servant by the name of Ooliir. My heart skipped and I ran down the hall, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. When I reached the door, I was greeted by, of all people, Velda Gardeel. Her fake smile gave her face a menacing look. Despite being taller than her, she continued to speak to me as though I were still a small child.

"Hello, Thane. I'm so very glad to see you made it down," her calm voice grated on my nerves.

In order to hide my discomfort, I bowed politely.

"Of course, Councilor Gardeel."

"I'd like to be the one to introduce you to your new IP Servant contact, Ooliir. He's been following your career with much interest."

I followed her into the office and immediately noticed the tall, rotund-bodied hanar standing near the Encompassing entrance. I bowed to him, dropping to one knee.

"My Servant of the Enkindlers," I greeted him quietly.

"Thane Krios, designation name Venom. This One is impressed with the reputation despite young Sere's short career," Ooliir beamed arrogantly.

"My thanks."

"It is protocol that Servants and Compacted agents interact with one another before jobs are offered, but This One feels it is unnecessary."

I remained silent and watched Ooliir walk over to his desk to activate his console.

"This One has a task for you. Return to your quarters to receive the file."

Bowing one last time, I exited the office and started for my room only to be stopped by Velda before reaching the elevator.

"I wanted to offer my condolences to you in regards to Yealtka's death. She thought fondly of you and you of her, yes?" her feigned smile pulled unattractively on her face.

I stared directly into her eyes, silently hating her for existing, before offering a curt "yes."

"I'm sure you're interested in discovering who her killer is."

I could see a wicked gleam flash in that grin, but I continued to show no reaction.

"My interest lies only in finishing what contracts are offered to me, Councilor. If you will excuse me, I have a message to read."

I stepped into the elevator and watched the doors close, hiding her away from me. A strange rush of relief filled my soul. I had a purpose again; I had a contact, and this time, I vowed, I wouldn't let them get close.

Just as Ooliir had said, there was a message awaiting me on the console. I opened the file and gazed upon the contract information with a touch of surprise. The target, a batarian business man, by the name of Chordur Vaash who was reportedly dealing in shady trades with slavers, was not in Kahje, but on Khar'shan. I wondered why I was asked to kill someone who had nothing to do with threatening the Primacy or the citizens of my homeworld. Perhaps I should investigate further, I thought, but I was not a trained to be a detective. I was trained to eliminate threats. So, why was Vaash to be terminated?

I had never been off Kahje in my whole fifteen years of life, therefore to say I was daunted by the task at hand is a great understatement. I knew nothing of life within the rest of the galaxy, other than stories I had heard or what I saw or read from news feeds. There were places I was certainly curious about, of course. The beauty of Thessia, the majesty of the Citadel, the lush tropical forests of Sur'Kesh, even the variety of biomes that existed on the human homeworld Earth; I secretly dreamed of visiting all these locations. But I knew as long as I was in the service of the Primacy, I would not be granted a chance to enjoy them. At that point in my life I didn't care. I had a job to do and I was meant to do it well.

The day before I was to take my first starship to Khar'shan I was called into Ooliir's office. Velda was nowhere to be seen, but Omir was present, proudly standing at my new contact's right side. I bowed in respect to them both, curious to know why I was summoned so soon before I needed to leave.

"Young Sere has noticed Yealtka's assistant is here," the hanar glowed flippantly.

"Yes, my Servant," I acknowledged.

"Sere Rona tells This One that Yealtka was very fond of you, that she granted you the honor of knowing her 'Soul Name'. This is true, correct?"

"It is."

Ooliir began to pace languidly along the circumference of his office, forcing me to watch his slow, arrogant walk.

"Yealtka trusted her agents to a fault. She trusted too readily. This One always considered her to be too weak to head the Special Operations department, though she did manage things better than most. Perhaps even better than It. A fact which This One must remember. She was greatly respected by the agents, both civilian and Compacted."

I nodded and remained silent, not understanding where the conversation was leading. Omir caught my eye, faintly whistling a high note from his throat for Yealtka's memory. I echoed a reply.

"You, Venom, were her favorite," Ooliir revealed. "You proved to be the most efficient in your class, the quickest to finish your contracts. And that is why This One has given you the task of eliminating Vaash. You will be given the necessary elements for interstellar travel. You are also required to finish this contract within one week once arriving on Khar'shan."

I had never been given a time limit before but I thought it wouldn't be a problem considering I was rather quick with my contracts. Nodding in agreement, I gave him a stiff bow before exiting the office. Omir followed me out towards the open concourse and stopped me before I stepped into the elevator.

"Sere Krios, may I have a word with you?"

I blinked in faint surprise and sat down on a nearby bench next to him. Omir had never spoken personally with me.

"Your latest contract, Vaash, is a slaver, as you are well aware. Under normal circumstances, the Primacy doesn't intervene in the business that goes on around the galaxy that has no impact on Kahje, despite how we may feel about morality issues. However, Vaash is targeting outlying Hanar colonies, enslaving many scientists and miners who have no drell agents to protect them. The numbers of those who have been abducted is staggering and cannot be ignored. Two hundred seventy eight citizens is the up-to-date tally according to an investigating source. It could be more but we've heard no word from them for a few days. This is why we have the time limit; we fear that it's only a matter of time before Vaash comes to Kahje. He must be stopped."

"I understand," I replied and stood back up.

"Thane," Omir stopped me again, and I turned on my heels to face him. "Ooliir was telling the truth; Joy loved you. She regretted the fact that we had to take you away from your childhood to be made into this," he gestured to me.

I stared down at the floor tiles, remarking how my reflection looked much younger than I felt inside.

"I do not. At least I was given a purpose," I shrugged.

"Good luck with your hunt, Venom. May Arashu keep you safe."

The trip to the Batarian homeworld took less time than I anticipated. With help from the Mass Relay jump, which I discovered left me feeling scrambled for a few moments, the starship made it to the Harsa System in less than two days. Another day passed before I reached Khar'shan and I had already developed what I expected the planet's surface to look like.

I knew that batarians lived their lives based on a caste system and, for the most part, rarely ever let outsiders within the confines of their homeworld's boundaries. My imagination began to overtake me and I developed fantastical ideas such as buildings crumbling to the ground in great piles of ash and rust. Massive clouds poured acid rain over the cities, burning any citizen who wasn't wearing protective suits. Slaves were chained in long lines, groaning as they suffered blows from a driver with a whip. Lower caste batarians slept on the cracked streets while the upper class spit insults and saliva on them. I envisioned dystopian society at its pinnacle, bracing myself for a wonderland of terror.

Oh, how wrong I was.

The city of Ghad'Eder was actually quite similar in appearance to New Rakhana. The skies were not filled with black clouds and the streets were impeccably clean. There were no homeless or slaves being abused. In fact, it seemed like a rather nice place to live.

I was able to enter Khar'shan with a passport declaring me a student studying galactic societies. Though I was given a dark, untrusting scowl by the border security, I was allowed to exit the ship and make my way for the hotel quarters already reserved in my alias. As soon as I stepped into my room I began my search for Vaash.

One of the false tales about being an assassin is the idea that we're given everything before eliminating our targets. While, in certain circumstances this may be true, the fact of the matter is many targets must be found via investigation and tracking. It is very much a hunting game; breaking into personal records, tracking where the target could've been and may possibly be heading to in order to develop predictions based on their habits. It can be a dirty, detestable job; often involving climbing through sewers or hiding in places which could require holding one's breath in order to not be seen by the target or witnesses.

There are no glamorous bonuses to being an assassin. There are no white marble mansions where servants wait hand and foot on you between contracts, nor are there flocks of would-be lovers to dote on you, declaring their admiration for your skills. You are simply a weapon plucked from a selection of many others to perform certain specific duties. When there is no work, you are placed in stasis until needed.

My infiltrating skills came in handy when I needed to find out where Vaash had been seen. According to an unnamed, but trusted batarian source, he spent much of his time gambling in a small but elite casino. His bets went above and beyond the typical units of money; he had a penchant for trading slaves for cash with a local brothel operator. And it wasn't just hanar he had been kidnapping. Young asari maidens, quarians out on pilgrimage, human children, and even elcor were among his "stock pile". He favored "sampling" his inventory through abuse or rape before selling them off.

Vaash was the perfect candidate for assassination, I discovered.

It took me three days to locate that small bit of information, which meant I had to act fast if I was to finish before my timeline was up. I tried shadowing him outside the casino only to discover that the entrance was so heavily guarded that I would most certainly be spotted in any direction. My last resort was to get close, meaning I had to find a way to disguise myself.

A new shipment of slaves was reported to be coming in from Omega, according to my inside contact. Thanks to the information sent to me, I was able to climb aboard the cargo ship amid the group of twenty three slaves in the hold. Stripped of my weapons and clothing, but for a small strip of cloth to cover my nudity, I waited for Vaash to inspect the lot. I didn't bother making any contact with the other slaves, but I did note that each one was rather young, barely adults. With hope, I could find a way to get a moment to be alone with him.

After several hours in the sweltering heat of the ship's hold, Vaash came aboard with three other slave inspectors. The slaves curled into tight balls against the walls, some weeping in fear. I kept my sight locked on my hands and my mind focused by mentally repeating mantras and assassination techniques. I needed to get his attention.

"Most of them are probably inexperienced, "one slaver explained during the inspection. "Runaways, orphans, but their origin isn't important. None of them showed any kind of disease."

"The humans can be sent to the mines," Vaash spoke. "The elcor can be sold to traders. I have no use for him. But… now! What's this? How did you manage to get a young drell? Now, there's a prize!"

His feet stopped before my knees and I took a chance to look up at him.

"Doesn't matter, now does it?" the slaver chortled. "The ship's untraceable so no one's gonna find him."

Vaash knelt down to inspect me closer. His fingertips brushed against my jaw, tilting my face up. He smiled, revealing rows of green teeth stained by tupari.

"He sure is a pretty thing, like some kind of priceless gem. This one belongs to me and me alone."

"Shall I go ahead and contact the potential customers on your list?"

Vaash waved the slavers off and continued to stare at me, fingers tracing the stripes on my arms and neck.

"Just get me my money's worth," he grumbled then pulled me up harshly to my feet. "And don't disturb me! I'll be busy for a little while."

Vaash led me out of the ship and towards his transport, shoving me into the back before sitting down next to me. As the car began to move, he scooted closer, touching my face, my arms, legs, chest, while I continued to sit still and not make eye contact.

"I don't care how those fools got you, but I'm very happy they did," he whispered against my frill. "Do you have a name, pretty little drell?"

"No, master," I replied quietly.

The soft caresses quickly became a violent, painful jerk to my frill as he pulled my head down to his lap. His other hand pushed on my skull, my pulse throbbing against my temples from the pressure.

"Do you feel that, how easily I could crush your weak little skull?" he hissed in my ear. "Your life is in my hands now, boy. Your body is mine, your brain is mine, that tight little ass is mine. You will do anything and everything I tell you to do. Understand?"

I croaked in compliance and was finally let go. Instinct told me to fight, to go ahead and take the initiative to execute him, however with the cars flying by in plain sight, and the chance that I would be caught the moment the transport stopped, I had no choice but to wait.

Our destination was his home, the penthouse of a large building in the center of Ghad'Eder. Once inside, I was pushed to the floor, his foot pressing down on the small of my back. The cleats in his heels dug into my flesh, but I kept quiet. I knew I would endure some pain, but I had to keep my temper. I had to bide my time until I could find the perfect moment to end his life.

"You feel that, boy?" Vaash chuckled and dug his heel harder against my spine. Hot pain surged through my back. "Feel that pain? You are beneath me! You are nothing more than a waste of air and food! But I will give you a purpose. I'll give you a reason to exist. The second I make you take my cock into your scrawny little ass you'll know your reason for living. Won't you?"

I agreed again and was allowed to stand.

"You're smarter than you look, pretty one. Now, go wash yourself off. And when you're finished, come back in here unclothed."

Calmly, I walked in the direction he pointed to the washroom. I closed the door and inspected the wound on my lower back. The cleats had sloughed off several scales, leaving an angry red scrape dotted with a few drops of blood. I carefully cleaned the area with a damp cloth before proceeding to wipe off any bits of dirt on the rest of my body, removing the loincloth just as he had demanded. When I was satisfied, I walked back into the main room to face Vaash with the hope that I wouldn't have to endure what he wanted to do to me.

He had taken to sitting down in a plush armchair, a smoke-stick jammed into the corner of his mouth and a glass of some unknown drink in his hand. His bottom eyes narrowed as he looked me over, lips curling into a twisted smile. I wasn't exactly sure what he wanted from me, so I attempted to act demure and submissive, dropping my head to the left to suggest admiration and respect. My hands folded at the small of my back, gingerly touching the tender skin.

"Are we so eager to be broken?" he sneered at me. "Come here."

Slowly, I approached him, standing in a weak slouch. In a flash, he had grabbed my thigh and jerked me down to straddle his lap. I gasped at the pain as his fingers dug into my muscles. His breath smelled of smoke and liquor. He began his gentle caresses again, over my abdomen and stopped at my genitals.

"I never knew that drell had such soft skin. Especially here," he stroked me and began to kiss my neck.

I fought to remain calm. The sudden shock of my body waking under the touch and the utter disgust I felt for allowing him to fondle me so intimately had me struggling to stay in character. I glanced up and into his bottom pair of eyes, thinking that for a moment I could make him submit to me.

His hand squeezed tightly around my member and my eyes watered from the pain. My groin throbbed acutely.

"You pathetic little piece of shit!" he snarled in my face, spittle dripping down my chin. "You think you're my equal? You're nothing! I could rip this little bit of garbage off if I wanted to, and there wouldn't be a damn thing you could do about it! But you know that, don't you, boy? Huh?!"

He gripped my head and nodded it for me before throwing me back down to the floor. I landed on my arm at an odd angle and felt my bones crack beneath the sudden drop. The impact had caused the bones in my lower arm to break but I couldn't tend to it; I would have to push through the pain.

His weight dropped onto my back, and he began to remove his belt buckle. His erection pressed against the still fresh wound. A knee burrowed between my legs and forced them open. I had seconds left before he violated me and I knew I had to act fast.

Flipping around, I faced him and grabbed his head between my hands. His long fingers wrapped around my neck but I was able to swallow enough air to inflate my throat. He fought against my strength, growling and yelling for me to submit. He cursed me with every derogatory term in the batarian tongue. My broken arm protested the movements I made with significant pain. I swung my right leg over his shoulder and gripped his neck into the back of my knee. Using my left elbow, I gained a formidable hold and used every bit of force I could manage.

The vertibrae began to slip and his trachea collapsed beneath my elbow. With my foot against the right side of his face, I ripped down my arm and felt the bones snap. The tell-tale cracking sound seemed to echo loudly against the walls of the apartment. The remaining air in his lungs hissed out his nose and his head lolled down to his chest at an unnatural angle.

For a moment, I could feel panic creep back into my mind. I stared in wonder at the dead body lying on me, in awe that I managed to summon that much strength. Carefully, I crawled out from the weight and stood back up. The pain I had ignored suddenly came back and I yelped as I gripped to my right arm. The two bones had been snapped into clean breaks but didn't puncture the skin. My groin ached from his harsh pulling and I nearly buckled to my knees.

I took a deep breath and regained my composure, drawing back into me the calm the Battlesleep provided. The smell of burning carpet drew my attention towards the chair he had been sitting in; I immediately noticed the smoke-stick's embers singeing the fabric.

I walked back down the hall and into a large bedroom where I noticed a console hub sitting on his desk I rushed back out to the main room and searched Vaash's remains for any personal artifacts. In his wallet was an ID card. Taking it, I went back to the console and activated his files. Hundreds of receipts revealing the trades of slaves, including the kidnapped hanar, were listed in the files. I quickly copied them onto the ID card while I searched for clothing in his closet. I threw on a pair of pants, which were ultimately too baggy for my frame without the aid of a belt, and a long coat with a deep hood, then grabbed the card and shoved it into my pocket.

I took one last glance at the dead slaver, breathing with relief that the short nightmare had ended. Small flames from the smoke-stick began to lick up the chair. To help it along, I took the glass still full of liquor, which he had placed onto the floor before the abuse began, and dumped it onto the smoldering spot. Immediately, it grew into a nearly uncontrollable fire, consuming the chair and the carpeting.

I exited the apartment and found my escape via a ventilation shaft leading to the roof. It was nearly evening and the skies had filled with dark, saturated rain clouds. I knew that within minutes the fire alarms would begin ringing, alerting the city authorities. Time was of the essence and I would need to find a way to get away from the building. My opportunity came in the form of a drainage pipe wide enough for me to slide through. Wrapping the coat tightly around my body, I wiggled down into it and felt myself drop at high speed. The pipe opened into the sewers beneath the city. The smell of excrement and rotting waste nauseated me. Bodies of dead slaves or lower casted batarians floated along like buoys in the thick, filthy waters. Vermin feasted upon the water-logged flesh, scurrying away in fear as I passed them by.

I continued to wade through the sewers until I found an exit near the municipal filtration plant. The opening was a storm drain with a narrow gap. I slid out, gasping in pain as my arm hit the edge of the wall. The scent of clean rain caused me to take a deep breath. Sirens began to wail through the air and I knew that the firefighters had been alerted.

I took my time getting back to the hotel, glad that the rain was able to remove some of the smell from my clothes. I was lucky enough to find a way into the hotel basement where the large laundromat was held. Tossing the filth-ridden clothes into a waste bin, I grabbed a clean bathrobe from a pile and made my way up the stairs and into the lobby. A few guests and staff members were discussing a large structure fire in a nearby building. I attempted to listen without appearing as though I was eavesdropping.

"The whole top floor is just a raging inferno!" a man muttered to the concierge. "I hope no one is injured."

"I hear you," the female batarian replied. "A lot of high-ranking government officials live in that building. Let's hope the fire squad was able to make it on time before anyone was hurt."

I didn't concern myself with the possibility of numerous deaths caused by the fire set off from Vaash's smoke-stick. They weren't my responsibility. The Battlesleep took care of any guilt I might have felt.

I went to my room and decided to take care of the injuries I sustained during the fight in the apartment. I created a crude sling from the bathrobe, wrapping the fabric tight around my arm with a thin wire rod made out of a clothes hanger to keep the bones straight. The shower provided some much needed warmth and relaxation to my aching body. But as the warm water hit the swollen scrape at my back I dropped to my knees and cried out in agony. It hurt worse than the fractured arm.

When I attempted to sleep I was haunted by the flashbacks of the abuse. I woke several times trembling in fear. But morning finally arrived, my last day on Khar'shan, and I was nearly overjoyed at the thought of seeing Kahje's turbulent oceans. With my bags packed and the evidence of Vaash's slave trafficking safely tucked away in my pocket, I left the batarian homeworld for mine feeling that despite my macabre career I had somehow lost my innocence.

*edited by n7gvlvr and Spyke 1985*


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Deylos shut the cover on the journal and shuddered. The story of the slaver's assassination in such bold detail unsettled him. He looked back up at Kolyat with wide eyes and a slacked jaw, unable to find any words for what he digested.

"You read about Vaash, didn't you?" Kolyat asked softly.

Deylos nodded slowly.

"I should have warned you that the journal includes some dark descriptions. I didn't realize just how much anguish Father had to endure until I read it."

With a sigh, Deylos tucked the journal into his duffelbag and returned to visiting with his father.

The two shared a fine lunch together while Deylos relayed anything interesting during his trip much to Kolyat's open intrigue. Although the younger Krios found it amusing that they were so often interrupted by Dana who sent message after message asking if everything was alright.

"Gods forbid if we're late getting back home," Kolyat grumbled. "But if we don't start out soon it'll be more than a few quick messages. She'll begin sending the police out to find us due to a missing persons warrant."

"You'd think she'd learn by now that you're habitually late," Deylos smiled.

"It's called 'motherhood' and it's a concept you or I will never understand, son."

The check was paid and the two started off for their home. The sudden silence between them had Deylos drifting back into wondering where the story would go. What kind of mental anguish did Thane endure after that kind of trauma? Quickly unzipping his duffelbag, he grabbed the journal and flipped to his marked page. Kolyat chuckled and patted his son on the arm knowing that the only noise between the two, for the rest of the ride, would be the rustling of the pages.

O . . . O . . . O

My injuries were treated immediately upon my arrival. Medi-gel can provide some assistance to the healing process, unfortunately bone fractures do not respond to the treatment as quickly as damage to other less hard tissues do. My arm was carefully wrapped into a cast and I was given restorative medication to help speed the mending.

It had been nearly a week since my return and I still hadn't heard from Ooliir. I began to wonder if the evidence I procured from Vaash's apartment was enough to prove his guilt for the kidnappings. But, I suppose, it didn't really matter. My main priority was to execute him. The ID card containing the slave files I considered an extra bonus from my mission.

I was also surprised to learn that Malliyah was finally placed on the List. She visited me one evening while I was resting after a day of exercising and therapy for my arm. Her appearance had me immediately sit up when I noticed the new stealth suit replacing her usual loose-fitting clothing. Her hand went instinctively to her shoulder then dropped when she realized there were no veil weights to toy with to divert her anxiety.

"I'm not ready," she admitted. "I'll be fourteen in a month and all I want to do is go back home and play with my dolls."

"You'll get used to it," I replied absently, turning away for a moment to remove my shirt which had become soiled from the gun grease I used to clean my sniper rifle.

Her warm touch trailed down my back and I shuddered.

"You've been in their service for only three years and already your back looks like a street map," she whispered.

I turned back around to face her, desperate to respond but couldn't find any appropriate words. Yes, I had sustained a number of injuries during my short tenure as a government-aided assassin, but, I reasoned with myself, my body was trained to endure those wounds and scars for a greater purpose. A broken arm meant that thousands of hanar citizens could continue to live their lives in peace without knowing they may have been hunted by evil individuals. Deep cuts to my back meant drell fishermen wouldn't be threatened by thugs who kept them from docking and selling the small loads they harvested from the Encompassing. I was the whipping boy for peace, willing to endure the pain with a closed mouth so others would never know that their society was under threat.

"I'll never be used to it, as you say," she smiled weakly. "I may perform the required duties, but I will not remain quiet. I'm as much a citizen as any high ranking Servant and have the right to speak my mind. If they don't like it then they can release me from my Compact agreement."

Despite her smile, fat tears dribbled down her face. She sniffled and tugged at the wide collar cresting around her neck.

"They expect me to keep my mouth shut and take the same kind of abuse I've seen you go through? Look at you! Scars all over your back, a broken arm; gods know what else you're hiding. That won't be me," she shook her head. "I won't let that be me."

I reached out and pulled her close, holding her tight against my injured arm. Lowering my head, I planted a soft kiss on her mouth before stepping back.

"You always were stronger than me," I murmured.

"You're a lot stronger than you think."

I watched her step closer to my door, her pink eyes darting down to the floor.

"I'm leaving for Praegeera in the morning. I have a new Servant contact located there. I hear it's nice and quiet, not as metropolitan as New Rakhana. If you ever end up there look me up."

"I shall," I nodded. And, with that, Malliyah walked out my door and my life.

A day later, Ooliir finally called me into his office. Omir greeted me warmly, asking if my injuries were healing but said nothing in regards to why I was summoned. When I entered the office my contact was standing before his console, front part of his body puffed up and glowing with pride and arrogance. A large holo of Councilor Gardeel flashed from the console display.

"This One is impressed by your work, Venom. You managed to not only eliminate a rather dangerous target, through unique means if It must comment, but also gave the Primacy a treasure trove of valuable information which the government plans to share with the Human Alliance and the Courts of Dekuuna due to the number of other slaves discovered.

"But This One is sure you are curious to see Councilor Gardeel's likeness displayed."

"I am, my Servant," I nodded.

Ooliir turned to Omir and waved a hind tentacle to denote the seriousness of the situation. I watched as Omir flipped on his omni-tool, pressing a myriad of buttons before inclining his head.

"All camera feeds are closed and bugs have been checked. You are free to speak openly, Servant," he informed.

"Venom," the hanar began, and I blinked in surprise to watch his demeanor change from assuredness to worry. "You are aware of the movement of drell supremacists within the Primacy. We know your training partner Malliyah Soone was secretly investigating Sere Edarnos' murder, linking it to the movement. We fear that her findings would put her life in jeopardy, which is why she is being sent away from the main base of operation here in New Rakhana. Matters like these must be dealt with delicately. We have not forgotten what crimes were committed to Sere Edarnos and the six Primacy Servants. And, unfortunately, justice does not often get served quickly. But we have discovered something that may finally put an end to these killings."

"May I ask why I am being told all of this?" I looked from Ooliir to Omir.

"Velda Gardeel is behind it all," Omir answered me. "Though she did not personally murder Runi or the Servants, she is the one with her finger on the button. Before she was a Councilor, Velda was Compacted to become what I am; an assistant and translator. However, she proved to be too stubborn and openly violent, refusing to adhere to any commands given to her. While she did make it to the point of being Listed as an assistant, no Servant wanted to accept her services for fear of her temper. She could not be returned to her family. Her father contracted Keprals and passed when she was still training. Her mother, mentally unstable, had fled from their home after her husband's death and couldn't be located. The Primacy decided to allow her to live here in order to give her a purpose. But she was rather vocal about blaming the Hanar for her family's troubles.

"Over time she seemed to become more subservient and even claimed that she had forgiven the Primacy, stating that they saved her life. She rose through the ranks of Compacted agents and finally reached the status of Councilor ten years ago, right around the time you were approached with your own agreement."

"Then how is she responsible for all of this?" I asked.

"Councilor Gardeel is still, apparently, not what we would consider mentally competent. While we can try to blame poor parenting, even the best families produce flukes. An unfortunate fact of life. She claimed that she had no ill feelings toward the government and her work reflected that. She openly took all missions directed her way and each one was finished with perfect accuracy. It wasn't until recently, when we started noticing certain errors in her work, that she was even remotely involved in the supremacists group. But the witness from Malliyah, the hearsay from others, as well as a discreetly planted bug in her office, has led us to this point."

"And that point is her inevitable elimination," Ooliir stepped forward. "This One is certain that there is no other way to fix this issue. She will only reach deeper into the government, planting more seeds of distrust among everyone until the entire planet is in the midst of havoc and chaos. She is a cancer and must be cut out of this body."

For the first time in my career as an assassin I felt the need to question my contacts motives. I recalled the words Malliyah often spoke, how she distrusted the hanar at times yet how she didn't trust Velda as well. Velda may have not been a well-liked individual, but was she absolutely guilty of her crimes?

"Is she indeed the culprit of the murders?" I dared to ask.

Omir looked to Ooliir and reactivated his omni-tool once again. The voice of Velda and an unknown male came through the speaker system in the office.

"They need to be made vulnerable," she whispered. "Without Servants to give orders, the Compacted are useless. Once they are broken down, we build them back up, make them stronger. We'll have an army more formidable than anything the Hanar has ever had to face. They will bow to us, not the other way around. We are, in every way, superior to them."

"But, the Special Ops teams," the male voice murmured. "The infiltrators and the assassins won't be broken so easily."

"They're more fragile than you think. Brainwashed from the time they were small children, meant to think that their reason for living is to kill petty criminals because it could cause a disturbance in the peace. Their innocent little minds have been raped in the worst possible way. What kind of so-called 'gentle' sentients would request for children to be made into mindless killers? We are being ruled by selfish, cruel, power-hungry parasites. They know they don't stand a chance to survive without us, yet they're the ones who tell us that we have no chance of survival without them!"

"What's our next move?"

"Any Compacted agent without a Servant contact is to be executed. Here's a list of names we know about. Make sure it looks suspicious. Use the neurotoxin, if you have to; just make it look like the Hanar did it."

"It will be done, Velda."

The transmission ended and the office filled with silence. I felt a wave of nausea overtake me, causing me to stumble back against the wall to hold myself up. Somehow I had always known that Velda was behind everything, but I never wanted to believe it. I wanted to believe that despite my dislike for her she wasn't malicious.

"We wanted to give you a chance to heal, but we just received this recording last night," Omir spoke up, ending the quiet. "We know the agents who are being targeted and they have already been sent to secret sanctuaries until this crisis is averted."

"There isn't another assassin who can do this task?" I asked.

"Yealtka gave you the name 'Venom' for a reason, Sere Krios," Ooliir glowed. "Out of every assassin we've needed to train, you have been the most effective and most consistent with every task given to you. In fact, the Primacy wasn't sure you would be capable of succeeding in eliminating Vaash, but you proved us wrong. No one else has the skills to take out Councilor Gardeel. She will prove difficult, of that This One is sure. She has a small yet formidable force already. We ask that you try not to harm them, but if you have no choice…" he waved around a sympathetic arm. "We're counting on you to do what is right. Execute Gardeel as quickly as you can."

I bowed deeply before exiting the office. Many questions that had been building up in the back of my mind for years were finally answered, yet brought forth more problems that I was sure would never be solved. How was it that she hadn't been caught until now? What took the investigators so long to catch on to the crimes? And, foremost, why was I asked to pull the trigger on Velda? I was still injured which meant the contract should've gone to someone more capable of handling the situation. But instead of refuting I accepted. In fact, the very idea of bringing justice to Runi's murder by my hands gave me a sense of satisfaction and deeper purpose.

The information sent to my console about the contract was sparse. There weren't many details needed, of course. The greatest issue in finishing the job would be to somehow eliminate her in private. I wasn't exactly sure how to accomplish that feat. She lived not far from the headquarters in an apartment building where several other government workers resided. I couldn't risk pulling off the same tactic I used back on Khar'shan by setting an entire building on fire.

My plan was to stake out on the top level of the adjacent building and try to snipe her through the windows. It seemed like an ingenious plan until I read the building specs and saw that the glass was bullet-proof. I had no choice but to get close.

Omir sent me messages on my omni-tool alerting me to her sudden disappearance in the Primacy. She gave no warning or reports of absences. She hadn't been seen leaving the city, which meant she was hiding somewhere. When my plans of tracking her down failed I resorted to one last tactic; I had to draw her out to me.

I sent a message to her console in hopes she would receive it. Frantic letters of fear and distrusting the hanar were meant to coax her to me; a scared boy on the cusp of manhood confused by life in general. I told her how I continued to mourn Yealtka, how I feared for the other Compacted agents, how much I missed my family. I wondered if she would take it seriously.

Days later, much to my surprise, I received an encoded message from her. She asked to meet me in the playground of my old grade school where I first met her. I agreed to do so, leaving the stealth suit and my other tools behind.

I entered the playground, finding myself being drawn back into vivid memories of my childhood. I could hear Uryah giggling as I chased her around the swings, pretending to be superheroes. The scent of sugarmelon cookies wafted through the air. My muscles burned as we climbed up the jungle gyms, racing my friends to reach the top…

"Hello, Thane," Velda's voice drifted through my mind and brought me back to reality.

I turned around, expecting to see her flanked by her lackeys but was surprised to see her alone.

"Councilor Gardeel," I nodded in greeting.

"I'm so glad to see you here, Thane. I didn't know if this was a ruse or if you're actually serious in your requests to meet me."

I held my injured arm close to my body and proceeded to sit down on a swing. Once again I was drawn into the past. The little wave skidder was back in my hands, soon to be broken because of my fear and distrust of her.

"There is something you should know," I began, surprised by how mature my voice sounded.

She sat down next to me and smiled. For a moment I could see her vulnerability. I saw the scared child who was orphaned and left in the care of the government, and I felt an incredible amount of pity.

"I already know," she said softly. "I'm no fool, Thane. I haven't made it this far in the Primacy by being ignorant. The Servants sent you here to kill me, didn't they?"

I hesitated on telling her the truth but, ultimately, I nodded.

"Yes, they did," I admitted.

"Fair enough. Thank you for being honest with me. I was wondering how long it would take for them to notice my work. I do apologize that your life has been so affected by everything, but I had my reasons."

"Forgive me for not understanding."

"I don't expect you to; at least not right now. I hope you understand that everything I've been trying to achieve is simply to help the drell understand that they are not required to serve the Hanar. We're not required to serve anyone. We are a strong, beautiful, able-bodied people who have the capability to be an unstoppable force in the galaxy. Think about it; with nothing to hold us back, no restricting government to tell us that we have no chance to survive without their help, we could be as powerful as the Asari or the Turians. This is what I yearn to see; the drell breaching the surface of this dreadful planet and rising to their full potential."

Her eyes focused on the sky with an almost feverish gleam.

I remained silent, unsure if anything could be categorized as right or wrong in that moment.

She reached for my hands, stroking the backs gently as she began to weep.

"When I first met you, you were so angry at me. And you had every right to be. You dreamed of becoming a writer like your father, and you should have been allowed to pursue that instead of being guilted into submitting to an ungrateful panel of unfeeling hypocrites, forced to become some cold, merciless killing machine. You could've been celebrated for your intelligence, adored for having an opinion, an imagination! Instead you've had to endure torture and pain, reprogrammed to think that doing the Primacy's bidding will bring some kind of honor to your family. Your story is such a sad series of events. Have you ever thought of what you wanted out of your life? Did you ever want to fall in love, have children, travel the galaxy for your own desires? You deserve to have a normal, happy life which you control!" Her hands squeezed mine so tightly I could feel my pulse throb in my fingertips.

"Poor, sweet, gentle man," she kissed my hands. "Your childhood taken from you, your life completely altered for selfish means, and you will never be able to understand. One day, when these moments are faded against the past, they will see what I was trying to do. They will see that I was pushing the drell toward a progressive movement of peace and self-reliance. And the history books will state that I was a hero and not a terrorist."

"I take it, the second I go for your life I'll be targeted by your army," I glanced up at the roof of the school. There were no signs of snipers waiting to take their shots.

"I came alone, I can assure you."

I stood up from the swing and led her out of the playground and toward the docks, escorting her out of the dome. Rain poured down her face, concealing her tears. She placed a hand on my cheek and smiled despite her sadness. For once I saw that her smile was genuine and it was beautiful.

"I am ready now," she nodded. "I trust you'll make it painless."

"As much as I can," I said as I pulled a long, thin-bladed knife from my boot.

Another soft smile pulled on her mouth. Her chin quivered and she trembled with fear.

"Goodbye, Thane Krios. May Arashu protect you."

I approached her and held her tight in my arm, the knife poised against her jaw.

"Farwell, Velda. Kalahira guide you across the Sea," I whispered before shoving my blade deep into her head. My knife slid easily through her sinuses and plunged into her brain, immediately killing her. The soft gurgling of her blood pouring into her throat was the only sound she made. She fell limp in my embrace. I captured her death mask in holo before gently dropping her body into the ocean and watching it sink beneath the waves.

I sat on the dock for a few moments as I contemplated everything she told me, even recalling some similar words Malliyah had spoken. Since I signed onto my Compact agreement I never saw myself as anything else but an assassin. But, I wondered, could I be more? Was there something else I was destined for or was I meant to remain a weapon for the Primacy?

The dim light of the white dwarf Kahje orbited began to pour through the blanket of thick clouds. Rain bounced off the dome, sending faint iridescent shimmers off the transparent surface. Velda had given me a lot to think about, and a lot more questions that needed answering.

I offered the evidence of my contract's death to Ooliir. My contact seemed satisfied and offered a pleased glow to me.

"You may return to your quarters until needed again," he dismissed me flippantly.

I turned on my heels but then stopped before I exited. My conscience continued to nag at me and I needed an answer to the one question that hadn't left me since Velda's execution.

"If I should want to leave my Compact agreement, would I be allowed to go?" I asked.

Ooliir paused his gait and stared at me, faintly glowing with contemplation.

"It clearly states that the Compacted agent is free to live their own lives."

"But few ever leave, and it's because we know of no other life. I want to know if I would ever be held back by you or any other Primacy servant if I asked to leave your services."

The hanar didn't move or glow, but continued to pulse slowly. I feared I had made myself look suspicious.

"If it is your wish to leave, your Compact agreement be released at any time," Ooliir finally answered me. "But, know this, Venom; once you step away from your post you can never return. The Primacy will support your decision to go live as a normal citizen, but we cannot offer you any kind of aid."

I bowed and explained that I understood. Once again, I turned to leave the office, feeling exhausted and stressed. Velda's death somehow impacted me and I couldn't quite put a finger on the reason why. It wasn't guilt; the Battlesleep I kept myself immersed within helped to carry away any emotional weight from my heart.

"Thane," Ooliir stopped me.

I stopped at the door jamb and turned my head just enough to glance at him from over my shoulder.

The hanar bowed his head to me and began to glow a soft light.

"My name is Illuminates the Folly of the Dancers, and I am proud to call myself your contact."

Without responding to the honor he bestowed upon me, I walked out of the office and back to my room.

*Edited by n7gvlvr :)*


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Deylos was swept into his mother's surprisingly strong embrace, a sheepish grin sliding crooked up his face as he met his father's openly amused regard. She inspected him, making sure there were no scars or marks to make her worry or scold his actions. When she was sure he was fine, Dana let him go and ushered them into the large Krios manor.

Waiting inside were the rest of Deylos' immediate family along with his sister's husband and their young son. He bent over and whispered in Kolyat's ear.

"Is this an intervention?"

"No, son, it's called 'dinner'. Although, now that I think about it, it could very well turn into that," he shrugged in humor.

The camaraderie of the family carried on into the dining area where plates of food were passed around the table. Deylos listened to the conversations going on around him from Atlon's self-praise about discovering a small error in the company's accounting department to his nephew quickly chattering about his favorite subject in school to his sister Irikah's teasing of Atlon's arrogance.

A thought suddenly occurred to him as he turned his eldest sibling's name over in his head. In the time he had read his grandfather's journal, from the retelling of Thane's struggles against his jobs and the politics of Kahje, the subject of Deylos' grandmother had not been mentioned yet.

When the dinner ended, he pulled Kolyat to the side to ask him a question that had been itching in his brain the second it entered his mind.

"Father, why did you name Irikah after your mother? I figured it would have brought up painful memories."

Kolyat showed Deylos into his home office, a dark room filled with mementos of his life, both current and ages old. He picked up a holo frame and flipped through a few images until it rested on a picture of a lovely young woman with soft yellow skin, dark brown cheek marks and skull spots, and eyes the color of bright gold topazes. This particular image had never been shown to his children, although they had seen a few holos of their late grandmother which had been dulled to grayscale due to damage over the years.

Deylos stared at the image of the young woman in her bright red wedding dress, golden veil draped down her petite frame like a piece of woven sunlight, and was in awe.

"Yes, it's very painful for me to look back at those last moments I had with her," Kolyat sighed and sat down in his chair. "But I felt that her memory didn't need to end with her death. When your sister was born, I thought it was only right she carry on that name, and your mother agreed. I also think that my father would've been adamant we name her Irikah.

"I never realized how much he loved my mother until I read his journal. Sure, he told me, and I could see it in his eyes when he talked about her; if he talked about her, that is."

"He didn't want to talk about her? I figured that he would have wanted to, trying to make up with you while he was away for so long," Deylos handed the frame back to Kolyat and sat on the edge of the desk.

"Love does strange things to the mind, son. And when you lose the one you love to such violence, realizing that it was your fault, it's more than just damaging. It drove him insane for a little while. He should've sought psychiatric help, in fact, but my father was a man of little words and a lot of action. He thought he could heal himself via revenge. But I don't think it ever did. I expect that when he wrote about Mother it was probably the hardest thing he ever did. But, as you'll see, it gave him peace of mind. It healed him to reveal the immense love he had for her.

"As a matter of fact, you're nearly to the point where he met her," he smiled.

"Already?" a child-like spark glittered in Deylos' eyes.

"Oh, yes," Kolyat nodded. "Although, I warn you; my father was a bit of a sap when it comes to describing my mother. She wasn't perfect, as no one should be; but in his eyes she was immaculate. I would dare to think that she would've thought him ridiculous, but that was him, for you. I don't think anyone could've loved her as much as he did."

O . . . O . . . O

My son…

I've come to expect that no matter what life intends to throw at me I should simply brace myself and accept it. I had used this tactic for the majority of my life and, under most circumstances, it seemed to work. But everything can change in a mere second even when you do attempt to "go with the flow". And it was one very particular moment that changed everything about me and made me realize that there was more to my existence than being a weapon.

The next year rode a fairly consistent wave with few unexpected turns. I finished all contracts with my typical efficiency and barely a word exchanged between my contact and me. Despite his honoring me with his Soul Name, I didn't return the warmth. I didn't want to make the same mistake of befriending another contact or peer for fear I would lose them either to death or distance.

The assassination of Councilor Gardeel had caused a slight stir within the Primacy, especially amid the drell agents who were close to her, but no riots or other crimes of anger occurred. It seemed that the supremacy movements she predicted weren't going to happen. And, if there were any disruptions they didn't amount to much more than a protest or two.

I had been given a contract by Folly which should've been more than easy. A few anti-Primacy movements had been spotted off Kahje, making small marks among pirates and slavers for the most part. My guess was they saw the political statement as a good excuse to tie into their crimes. My target was a crime lord by the name of Theris Mehr, a petty boss at the moment, but someone if not taken care of would've become a formidable foe. He had been seen in Vashta City roaming the streets as the townsfolks prepared the main square for the Enkindler's Day celebration which was quickly approaching. I made the decision to take a sniper's position and execute him from a safe distance.

It was late spring and I had just turned 17 that year. My brother had just wed his partner of a few years, the same young man he had fallen in love with during his time at University. I still had not met Aydimas Taros nor did I know anything more about him other than the fact my family was overjoyed by the bonding.

Vashta City didn't impress me any more than New Rakhana did. Ultimately, one city looked like the other and was merely a blurred backdrop for my assignments. The day I arrived was the morning before the festivities were to begin. I found a good place to set up my rifle from a high building, thankful that the roof had a tall ridge I could use as a shield if it was necessary. I managed to discreetly follow Mehr around and learned that he did indeed plan to attend the evening ceremony of the festival in hopes of meeting up with other small-time crime bosses to discuss "product". Things were flowing along nicely while I began preparations for the execution. If things went the way I expected them to, I could kill him, pack up my belongings, and be back in New Rakhana before the end of the day.

Arrogance is the plague of the young, I've learned. It is also one of the things that can cause fate to interrupt your plans. I thought I had everything in my life figured out; I was to continue to be a government-aided assassin until I was either asked to retire or go the route Runi did and become a mentor to trainees.

I spent hours on that rooftop, waiting for the precise moment to pull that trigger and stop another minor threat to Kahje's citizens. I bided my time by whistling old songs from my childhood, counting the streamers tied to the lamp-posts, or watching children play among the crowds. As the evening progressed, the younger audience diminished and left my target more open. It was perfect. There was barely a breeze from the city climate controls, the fading light hit his head just so to highlight his crest, and there were no close-ranged bystanders that could be injured by collateral damage. The smell of spice lilies, such a pleasantly rich perfume, wafted up my nose.

I flipped on my laser and stared down the scope. His skull magnified in the glass to the point I could easily count the scales across his forehead. The laser gently danced across his temple, marking the entrance point for my awaiting round. I felt an assured grin snake up my lips and I knew I had him. My finger grazed over the trigger, barely feeling the cool metal tap against my fingertip…

"Hey!" a feminine voice shrieking caused me to immediately pull my eye away from the scope to look down over the roof edge. A low murmur erupted from the small crowd as a young woman ran towards my target, hands waving high above her head to alert him to her presence.

I looked back down through my scope and focused in on her. She slid to a halt before him, and held her chin up high toward my direction. My spotting laser trembled against her throat and I watched her suck in her breath and flare the delicate frill around her neck and cheeks. A disgusted sneer curled on her full lips, revealing her sharp canines. Her eyes flashed in sheer anger, brilliant orbs the color of golden sunsets. And then her lips began to move.

"How DARE you?!" she yelled.

I turned the laser off and continued to stare at her through the glass. I had never been so shocked by a stranger, so enchanted, that it actually kept me from finishing my tasks. But I couldn't take the shot. I didn't dare bring her wrath down upon me for fear she was perhaps some kind of vengeful spirit. She seemed to glow in my sight, shimmering along the blurred edges of the scope, like a ghost.

Mehr had run away and the crowd seemed to wait and see what would happen. I collapsed my gun, hiding in the shadows of the rooftop while I contemplated what had just happened. A bystander, perhaps an innocent person, had risked her life to save another. Was she some sort of bodyguard? Did she know him? A thousand questions began to swarm in my confused brain.

Unable to comprehend what had just happened, I felt my mind breaking out of the Battlesleep and the rush of anxiety creeping slowly back into my soul. I needed rest; the odd event had left me terribly weakened, I realized, that when I stood up I felt my legs shake.

That night, in my hotel room, I couldn't sleep. I paced the floor in hopes of wearing myself to exhaustion, but rest never came to grant me peace. I stared out the windows overlooking the main stretch of Vashta City and found that I kept going back to that very moment when the mysterious young woman blocked my aim.

She was lovely, so delicate-looking and yet her face held such power. I thought she was the Goddess Arashu in the flesh. And I couldn't get her features out of my mind. That cold snarl, the way her fists clenched and unclenched, the proud posture she held while standing before my target…

Those eyes…

They were so vibrant, so full of life and anger and insult. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. And, without seeing me, I knew she hated me.

Her image, drawn in quick, unfinished doodles, stared at me from the piles of papers strewn across the room. No matter what I did I couldn't shake her image from my mind. So very prominent were her words! Over and over, like a broken holoscreen vid, I saw her appear in my memory, shouting indignantly while protecting my target.

"Who are you?" I asked the image of her eyes quickly sketched onto my paper pad. "Why did you stop me?"

I had to find her. I had to explain who I was and why I had been charged with the assassination of Mehr. The question was would she forgive me. Would she accept my words or would she scorn me? I knew I wouldn't find any rest until I located her and offered my apologies.

But I still had a task to complete. Mehr was still alive and needed to be the opposite of that. I had to finish the mission and I secretly hoped that whoever she was there was no attachment to my target.

The suppressor allowed a pressurized hiss to sound as I fired my round into the alley. Mehr, drunk and most likely high from red sand, jerked back, wobbling for a second, before tumbling into a clumsy heap onto the ground. The alleyway wall, where he happened to be urinating on, dripped with brain matter and blood, and the pink mist from the entrance wound began to dissipate. I captured a quick holo of his current state before rushing from the scene before the authorities arrived. I had accomplished what I couldn't a few days ago, yet, for some unknown nagging feeling, I felt a slight sense of guilt.

According to the files on Mehr, he was a good candidate for assassination and I was surprised that he hadn't been targeted before. I should've been satisfied with my work. The hit was quick, virtually painless, and, other than what the police and medics would have to face, left little mess.

But my mind was still on the young woman who stood between my rifle and him. While I continued to stalk Mehr, I wasted time by tracking down any information I could on the young female citizens of Vashta City with her description. One name was narrowed down on the census, a 16 year old xenosbiology student at the University named Irikah Fenar. And each time I found a new image of her from my searches on the name I felt my heart skip and my breath catch in my throat. The question still remained if she was attached to Mehr in any way and I intended to find out.

I found myself, the next morning, at the city's University where she attended classes. I watched her walk down the main corridor of the campus and enter a smaller building. There were a few others going in the same direction, so I attempted to play myself off as a fellow student, offering weak greetings to anyone who said "hello". I followed her down a dark hallway until she entered a room where a pass was needed. There was no chance I could get inside without tampering with the system. It also made it a bit difficult to attempt any hacks due to the security mechs roaming around. In fact, I was immediately questioned by one when I wasn't recognized as a personnel member.

"Sorry, I guess I'm in the wrong building. New school, first day," I shrugged innocently and walked away. But I didn't leave the campus; I kept watch for her to come back into the corridor.

Night had fallen before I saw her again and the corridor was, for the most part, empty. I felt my heart skip when I saw her cross the wide expanse for the exit to the concourse. Common sense told me to keep my distance, but when I noticed another young man chase after her, I froze in my steps.

"Of course, she's with someone, you fool!" I berated myself silently.

I flipped open my omni-tool to contact Omir and order a transport back home when I heard shouting coming from her direction. My body tensed and I forced my legs to move me out of the corner I had been waiting in.

"Goo-bag lover!" the male was shouting at her while she tried to ignore him. "Working to make the Hanar stronger, are we? We know what you're doing, Sana Fenar!"

"Go away," I heard her grumble softly.

"This problem will never go away! You're committing a crime against your fellow drell, Sana," he continued to yell.

"Your presence is committing a crime against the drell. Now, leave me alone, or I'm calling the police!"

I watched him back away, and, for a moment, it looked like he would leave her in peace. But then he lunged forward and knocked her to the ground, spilling the contents of the tote bag that was on her shoulder. My guts seized with fear and I began to run. The male was grabbing for a datapad when I reached them. Before he could tuck it away in his jacket, I had his arm in my hand, and began to bend it back. He yelped in pain.

"I don't think that belongs to you, does it, good Sere?" I whispered.

His response was another scream of pain as I bent his thumb back. The datapad tumbled to the ground.

"Now, if you would be so very kind, apologize to this lovely young woman for interrupting her time, or your hand will be ripped off your arm."

I could feel his muscles trembling as I forced more stress through the extension. He nodded rapidly and gasped for air.

"I'm sorry, Sana Fenar!"

"And you will never bother her again or I will come looking for you. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" he croaked.

I let him go but not without shoving him away harshly. He gathered himself back to his feet and fled down the road.

Irikah, silent through the entire ordeal, finally met my sight with those beautiful sunset-golden eyes. I offered her my hand to help her up, then attempted to gather her fallen belongings back into the tote bag.

"Thank you, really. That bastard's been bothering me for days when he found out I was in the research group for Belaris Anemia. Are you a police officer? University security?" she asked, her voice shaking from her fright.

"No," I shook my head.

"Oh. You do look a bit young to be an officer. A student? I've never seen you around before."

"No."

"Well, thank you again. Not many people step up to help when they see another in trouble," she started to walk away.

I glanced down at my hand, feeling the resonating touch swarm pleasantly beneath my skin, and I clenched it into a fist.

"Much like what you did the other day in the town square?"

She immediately stopped in her tracks and slowly turned back around. The warmth in her eyes faded slightly.

"You saw that, huh? No one even noticed that someone was going to be killed during a festival that celebrates peace and unity. What was I supposed to do?"

"That 'someone' was a terrorist," I revealed. "He was at the festival looking for hanar and drell to kidnap into slavery."

"How do you know that?" she asked skeptically, eyes narrowing.

"Because I was the one who was ordered to take the shot."

Her eyes became wide again and her mouth pulled into a thin, angry line. She stepped back and clutched to her tote bag protectively.

"You! You were the one who was going to kill him? What do you want with me?! Are you after me, now?"

My hands flew up in submission.

"No, not at all. Please, Irikah, I- I had to meet you, to explain," I struggled to find any words.

"Explain what?" she stepped away from me. "Just get away from me, okay?"

Panic gripped my heart and I dropped to my knees.

"Please, don't go. I, I need… I'm begging for your pardon! Forgive me."

For a moment I thought she had gone until I heard the soft click of her boot heels on the asphalt. I expected her to contact the police or, even worse, kick me while I was down.

"You're not just some common criminal, are you?" she asked and I shook my head to answer.

"I'm a member of the Special Tasks force for the Primacy."

"A Compacted agent. You're charged with eliminating dangerous criminals, right?"

"Yes."

"Why do you need me to forgive you? You should ask the Primacy for that."

I dared to look back up at her and noticed that her anger had diminished.

"I need not to be forgiven from the government. They give me my contracts and I attempt to fulfill them. You, however, wouldn't know or understand that, which is why I'm asking you to forgive me for eliciting your anger."

"Look, just stand up. I don't need rumors to start going around because someone saw you kneeling in front of me like you're some kind of beggar."

I acquiesced and stood up, realizing I was much taller than her. She looked me up and down, then sighed wearily and shoved her tote bag into my arms.

"Well, come on. You can walk me back to my apartment. Just in case there are any other crazy assholes who think I need to hear their opinions," she mumbled.

Shocked and lost for words momentarily, I gladly slung the bag up my shoulder and followed her down the street like a lost pet. She didn't speak a word to me until we reached her building. I handed her possessions back over and bowed deeply, honored that she allowed me to accompany her.

"For what it's worth, thank you," she twitched her lips into a weak smile.

"My greatest pleasure, Sana."

A sarcastic snort exited her nose. "You're a little odd, you know. Bordering on 'old-fashioned'."

"Does that offend you?" I asked with worry.

"No, not really. It's kind of cute, even if you are an assassin. Then again, I can't say I've known many."

"How many have you known?"

Her voice broke into a beautiful laugh, softening her young face and causing her eyes to shimmer in the dark. It was then I realized that, while she may have not been Arashu come to me, she was something almost as special. Her presence, her strength, her dignity, all screamed at me that I had just met a Siha.

"Ooh, boy, you need to get out more! I hope the Primacy doesn't keep you poor lot locked up when you're not ordered to shoot people down."

I remained quiet and, when she unlocked her door, I prepared to leave her alone.

"Wait a second, handsome," she called out.

I turned on my heel and faced her again, feeling my throat flush from her compliment.

"I never got your name."

"Thane Krios," I answered.

"Alright, Thane Krios, if you want to continue to make it up to me, and possibly scare away any other crazies who try to break my datapads, would you do me a favor and walk me to school tomorrow morning?"

My heart soared and I opened my mouth to answer but found no breath to use. Instead, I simply nodded.

"Fine. Meet me here at 7am. You can escort me back to the laboratory."

"You f-forgive me?" I stuttered.

She leaned casually against her door frame, her curvy left hip jutting out with a touch of arrogance as she looked me over with speculation.

"Not yet, Sere. I get that what you were trying to do was to help keep others safe from a low-life thug, but because you nearly blew someone's head off when there were people still around, I can't disregard it. My brother and sister were with me and they're only twelve. They wouldn't understand."

Bowing one last time, I agreed to meet her at the time she gave and watched her disappear behind her door. I couldn't wipe off the grin that continued to grow up my face.

The emotions a young man is expected to experience can run a massive gamut, especially when one has not faced the need to draw himself into the calm, emotionless serenity of the Battlesleep. I had never had the chance to feel true sadness or anger or disappointment for several years, and I certainly hadn't felt anything in regards to sexual attraction. But as I walked back to my hotel, with my head lost among the gold-lined clouds of young lust and daydreams, I realized that, for the first time in my life, I was utterly, undeniably, and, unfortunately, in absolute love with Irikah Fenar.

*author's notes- Xenobiology is the study of "alien" biology, obviously. In this case, Irikah is studying Hanar biology and anatomy in order to find a cure for the disease mentioned. Also, it should be noted that according to true story canon, Thane is 39 when he meets Shepard, meaning that if he "rediscovers" Kolyat when he is, according to canon, 20, he and Irikah would've had to have met at a rather young age. Head canon says that drell mature at a much younger age than humans meaning adulthood begins between the ages of 14-16 for both males and females. Sorry for the long note... thanks for reading, though!

*edited by n7gvlvr*


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Deylos sat in his bed and stared at the journal. He wondered what kind of woman had made his stoic grandfather fall in love. Of course, he had talked to his father on different occasions due to curiosity mainly, but never was able to get a full mental picture. After reading the short section about the moment Thane met Irikah, Deylos was captivated.

In his mind, he had envisioned a glowing goddess of a woman, draped in gossamer and jewels, with a halo of light surrounding her very being. He didn't expect to find a rather normal and somewhat clumsy young woman. There was a shyness to her yet she was also surprisingly open. What struck him the most about Irikah was her kindness. He began to understand why Thane fell in such deep admiration for her, and why Kolyat named his firstborn after his mother.

But he knew there was more to tell and he was eager to discover this wonderful person in further detail. He flipped the journal back open and continued to read where he left off. After all, it was a great privilege to finally meet his grandmother.

O . . . O . . . O

I don't think I was ever happier in my life as a young adult than the moments I spent with Irikah. While, at first, she barely spoke to me, she was never rude or cold. For about a week I offered to escort her to the laboratory she worked in, slowly learning more about her, but I was quickly called back to New Rakhana. I promised to return to Vashta City during my free time, which she seemed quite happy to hear. It was undetermined at the moment if what I had with her could be called a friendship, but I very much enjoyed being around her. Her feelings, however, were unknown, but she offered me her contact number in order to continue talking until I saw the opportunity to return to Vashta City.

When I came back to headquarters, the building suddenly resembled a penitentiary. My tiny room was nothing more than a prison cell. I craved the freedom Irikah had shown me in the few days I spent around her. I began to imagine a life of my own, a chance to prove that I could manage to live independently.

I was debriefed on the Mehr contract and was about to promptly return to my personal quarters when Folly stopped me.

"Is it just me, or do you somehow seem different all of a sudden?" he glowed with a tint of sarcasm.

I turned back around and faced him, searching my mind for an appropriate answer. While I had made the decision to not allow a deep friendship between my contact and me to develop, I did remain cooperative.

"Something happened back in Vashta City that I didn't put in my reports."

Folly's head cocked to the side slightly, and he began to illuminate with suspicion.

"I was wondering what took you so long. You should've returned to New Rakhana days ago, considering this was a very simple assignment for you."

I swallowed my anxiety and wrung my hands behind my back.

"I happened to have had a rather interesting encounter with someone. A young woman, in fact. She nearly kept me from completing the assassination."

"And how did she manage to do that? Is it important enough we need to add this to the debriefing file?" his front left tentacle hovered over the console.

I shook my head. "No. I was able to finish the task; this was simply a minor setback."

He stared at me for a long moment, glowing with slight amusement, before turning towards his Encompassing entrance.

"I'd hope you'd inform me before you take off for Vashta City during your free time, Thane; just so I know where to find you."

I opened my mouth to protest his assumptions, but firmly shut it and bowed before leaving the office. When I returned to my room, my heart jumped at the sight of a message waiting on my console. Nearly tripping over my feet, I rushed over to my desk to open it, and felt my cheeks ache from the massive grin pulling on my face.

"You're not in trouble, are you? Irikah."

My hands trembled as I typed in a response message. I was overjoyed that she contacted me, especially after her expression of distrust at first. Perhaps she was simply being friendly, I reasoned with myself. After all, why would a beautiful and intelligent young woman have anything to do with a Compacted assassin?

"Of course not. You needn't worry about me, but I thank you for your concern. All is well."

I waited for a response, staring at the glowing interface for several minutes before sighing with disappointment and flopping down to my cot. Flipping on a drawing program on my omni-tool, I began to mindlessly doodle to pass time. I didn't want to do maintenance to my weapons or clean my stealth suits of debris or any of the typical, menial tasks I had forced into habit after each mission; I brooded and began to silently construct a poem about the dark, endless void my life had suddenly become.

The console beeped and I leapt to my feet.

It was her again.

"Alright. I was worried."

Nothing more was exchanged that evening, but her kind words were enough to keep me on a dopamine high for the rest of the night.

In the year after Velda's death, the Primacy's fear of anarchy among the drell citizens had fallen into a lull. While we never "forgot" about her and what she attempted to start, her absence made us believe that there were to be no real threats. All of that silence should've been enough of a warning. It is unfortunate how hindsight is always the brightest form of vision.

About a week after I had returned home, I was woken one night by a concussive explosion. The walls and floors shook to the point I fell out of my cot. The screams of my fellow special ops agents echoed down the halls. Shouts from some of the elder members broke through the cries of fear, asking if anyone was hurt. I grabbed my closest pistol, threw on a pair of slacks, and rushed out my door. The smell of smoke was so thick I immediately began coughing uncontrollably. It was dark enough I could barely make out the outlines of the other agents mere feet away.

I was grabbed by the shoulder and pulled down into the stairwell where five other agents had taken shelter. A fellow assassin I knew only as "Blade" wordlessly checked me over before she nodded and motioned for us to run down the stairs. No one seemed to know anything and was just as much disoriented as me. We ran past the main concourse where the offices for the Primacy Servants worked and I slid to a halt.

"Keep moving!" Blade barked at me, grabbing harshly at my wrist to keep on running. Large chunks of the ceiling and walls began to crumble to the floor, shattering the beauty of the flawless stone mosaics. Panic slid through my blood, cold and sickening. My guts clenched and I wrestled my hand from hers as I watched the doorway to Folly's office buckle under the pressure of the collapsing building.

"M-my contact," I choked on a whisper.

"Venom!" Blade's rich voice broke through the ringing of my ears. "Move your scrawny ass before you get buried beneath the building!"

Heeding her warning, I ran after her, not looking back as I heard the sound of plaster, metal, and glass tumble into a cacophony behind my body.

The darkness of night concealed the thick layer of white powder and black ash on our skins. There were low murmurs of confusion swelling among those who had made it out of the building in time. I scanned the crowd of the less than one hundred drell to see if those I knew personally had survived the catastrophe. I heard many cry out in despair as they realized friends or acquaintances couldn't be found. Overtaken by shock, I dropped to my knees and attempted to catch my breath.

The length of time it took to escape the destruction seemed like hours to me, but, as I realized by looking down at my omni-tool read-out, it had been barely a half hour from the time I was woken by the explosion to the time I found myself standing along the edge of the block to watch the IP building, my home for eleven years, crumble to the ground. The eastern side of the dome shimmered from damage to the force field near the Encompassing entrances used by the Hanar, and my thoughts went back to Folly once again.

Rescue teams, paramedics, police squads, and fire departments rushed to the scene. Those of us who made it out alive walked around like lost souls. We still did not know what had happened and were just realizing that we had no home. My few possessions- the books my father sent me, my drawings, my weapons and stealth suits- were all gone.

When the chaos began to calm we learned from the police that the building was attacked by an unknown source using a military-grade bomb. We were all questioned and scanned by "lie-detection" mechs during the process. As the sun rose, pale light penetrating the blanket of clouds, we saw just how much damage had been done. Nearly three quarters of the structure remained, resembling an archaic skeleton among the nearly pristine crystalline skyscrapers of the city.

A submarine transport relocated us to a hotel in Vashta City near the IP embassy which dealt more with interstellar politics and laws as opposed to the large military-based establishment in New Rakhana. Security had never been tighter and every hallway, every corner of the hotel was consumed by soldiers wielding rifles. We were given clean clothes and fresh rations, but also scanned for weapons (which were taken away promptly) and given unique security codes that only worked with specialized passes.

We were allowed to accept outside contacts, both text-based and vid calls, but everything coming or going through our lines was checked over by intelligence agents. Of course, I was contacted by my family after word spread through the news about the bombing. I assured them I was fine and allowed them to talk while I listened half-heartedly. I still heard nothing from Folly and I discovered that I was more worried than I originally thought. After the conversation with my family ended I prayed to the gods. I asked them to send me a sign that Folly was alright, that he was still alive.

The knock on my door made my heart jump up my throat and I sat up on my bed at attention.

"Yes?" I answered.

"Thane?" a familiar voice broke through my sudden anxiety and I breathed a loud sigh of relief.

It was Omir.

I thanked the gods for his well-being then opened the door.

"Folly," I started before he entered the room completely. "Is he well?"

Omir sat down in the only chair in the small room and folded his long-fingered hands on his lap.

"Our Servant is fine, Sere Krios. Unfortunately, he cannot make contact with you at the moment, as the drell agents are being kept separate from the Hanar. I was told it was for security purposes until everything is checked over and investigated. They made an exception for personal translators to act as liaisons for the time being. He did ask me to tell you that he is well and is remaining in his underwater home with his family until called to Vashta City."

"Oh, thank you, Arashu!" I breathed and fell back into my pillow.

"I said the same thing," Omir chuckled.

We conversed for a few moments, expressing our fears and worries over the bombing and our suspicions about who could've been behind it. When he left me alone, I settled down and attempted to find rest when my console beeped at me. Grumbling with exhaustion, I reached over, expecting the call to be from my mother or Pallen, and answered it.

Beside the blinking cursor of the dim orange interface were these words. "Please, tell me you're alive! Irikah."

A smile crept up my face and I typed my response while trying to not let my eyes fall shut.

"Yes, I am."

Immediately, she replied back. "Goddess be praised! I turned on the holoscreen this morning and haven't been able to do a thing since I heard what happened. Those damn radical anarchists! I should've known bad things were going to happen when the protests started growing on campus. They tried to shut down the lab a couple days ago!"

"Excuse me? I don't follow."

"They haven't told you? It's all over the news vids. The bombing was done by the drell supremacists. Intelligence found some kind of manifesto where they said that bombing the IP Special Operations division was on their list. The government is said to be trying to trace who made it but it hasn't been revealed to the public yet. I guess that information hasn't been released to any of the agents, such as you, either."

I stared at her message stunned to my core. My tired brain was flooded with questions that I was sure would never be answered. Why did this happen? Would the culprit ever be caught? Did this mean more work for me or was I to be locked in stasis forever?

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Shaken up but I'm okay. I think. I've got a knife next to me, on my desk. I don't think there are enough locks on my door to stop those bastards if they intend to target my lab group and me next."

I leapt out of bed, threw on my clothes, and left the hotel through IP security.

"I'm coming over," I sent her and hailed a transport to her apartment building. Within moments I was standing outside her door and knocking furiously. She cautiously opened it and, when she saw who it was, allowed me to enter.

She stood in the center of her living room, long-bladed kitchen knife in one hand, and regarded me with open fear.

"I don't know why I'm worried about you. I shouldn't be, right?" she began to ramble. "I mean, you're perfectly capable of looking after yourself. Who am I to act like I care or something or… I hate when I get nervous because then I can't shut up. Which is what is happening now."

I reached out and gently took the knife from her hand before carefully placing it down on a nearby table. Her chin began to quiver and she dropped down to her sofa, sobbing quietly into her hands.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I was terrified! I saw those vids and the footage of that building and what's left of it and all I could think about was you!" she admitted. "And I prayed and prayed that you were alive and not hurt. I even had that message on my omni-tool for hours before I could send it out! Finally, I just got so tired of staring at it that I just hit send and hoped for the best."

I wasn't sure what to do. Should I console her; dare to wrap my arms around her and whisper that everything was going to be alright? I couldn't decide what would've been seen as proper, so I continued to stand nearby, hands balled into tight fists behind my back.

She dabbed her eyes and nose dry then shook her head as she looked me over.

"Oh, please, for the love of… Sit down! You don't have to be so damn stiff around me."

"My apologies," I muttered before taking a seat.

"Old fashioned assassins, who ever heard of such a thing?" she mumbled to herself as she checked me over. "You look like you haven't slept in weeks."

"I've learned to tolerate sleep deprivation."

"I'm sure you have," she snorted.

She offered to brew some tea, chattering nervously while she prepared the drinks. I attempted to make myself comfortable and watched her sway elegantly through her small kitchen when exhaustion finally sank its thick claws into me. Just before she returned to the living room with two mugs in hand, I had fallen asleep.

The first thing I saw when my eyes opened was the great golden pools of her stare. A wry smile sat crooked on her full lips. I sat up and dropped my gaze from hers, ashamed that I had allowed myself to drift into sleep.

"Good evening," she greeted kindly. "I was wondering when you were going to come back."

"I am terribly sorry," I rubbed my eyes clear of sleep and stood up, prepared to leave. "I should never have…"

"Should never have what? Allowed yourself any rest?" she sat the cup of tea, which she had reheated, down onto the table. "The way you just curled up on my armchair made me figure that you probably haven't had any kind of relief since the bombing. I didn't want to bother you, so I just sat here and did some reading. Besides, I don't really mind. Since my roommate left three months ago for his own place it's been sort of lonely."

"Yes, but… it was rude of me. I- I should be going back to the hotel. There is a curfew with the agents," I mentioned as I checked the time. There were a few hours remaining before I had to return.

"But, your tea; you haven't drank it yet," her smile faded.

I relented and took back my seat.

We spent the next couple of hours talking. She eagerly discussed her work in the laboratory, going over the tests she and her colleagues were working on in regards to Hanar-based pathologies while I politely listened in happy silence. I also learned that she loved to read, preferring philosophies from all over the galaxy.

"What about you?" she asked. "What do you like to do for fun?"

"Fun?"

"Um, yeah, you know, things you enjoy doing in your down-time. You do know what fun is, right?"

"I read, much like you do. And I check and clean my guns and armor," I shrugged.

"You consider that fun? Don't you ever, I don't know, go to the park or go out with friends to clubs? Maybe have a race with wave skidders?"

"No. I have no friends. It's not possible to make friends in my line of work."

I suddenly thought back on Joy, Runi, and Malliyah and began to feel a touch of melancholy.

"You poor thing," she murmured and shook her head. "You've never had a chance to explore anything like a normal person. Well, that settles it."

She stood up and walked towards her door.

"Go back to your hotel, get some real rest. In the morning, if they let you out, come back here and we'll go do something fun. And not 'clean your gun' fun, either," she smirked.

"Don't you have to return to the laboratory?" I asked while standing up.

"It's my free day. No school in session, no labs open. Just let me know if you're able to come along."

I agreed and bowed as I bid her a good evening which she returned.

"Have-have you forgiven me?" I asked as I opened the door.

The cool evening air brushed over us, chilling my skin and lifting her veil just enough to reveal the soft petals of her dainty, feminine frill. She laughed and threw me a coy, playful smile.

"No, not yet, handsome. But I may one day."

*edited by n7gvlvr*


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

He loved his morning runs. It was a chance to get away from all his worries and allow his brain to filter all the negativity away if just for a few moments. The sound of his feet hitting the road as he paced himself at a reasonably quick gait was automatically soothing. It was the cool air filling his lungs, the pleasant burn of his muscles warming up to the workout, the way his eyes watered just enough to clear his vision; all of these things invigorated him. Sweet, precious, nonchaotic solitary; it was perhaps the one thing he loved the most.

It was also times like this when he would let his mind wander and think back on happier memories or perhaps solve a problem he had been working on. That morning he thought of the passage in the journal he read during the night. Irikah was becoming more of an actual person rather than a spiritual entity often spoken about like some mysterious ancestor.

His grandfather's voice was also becoming somewhat of a unique entity. It haunted him, lured him into this alternate world beyond the shadows with a sense of security only to reveal the terrible truths of the past. As much as he wanted to throw the journal away from his hands after reading a dark moment, he found that he couldn't stop flipping to the next page.

He also knew that after the run he would be rushing up the stairs to his room to read more. The thought of returning to the story brought a smile to his face. Despite the pain and the heartache he knew Thane had to endure, there were also the bright sparks of happiness that made those elegantly scrolling words worth spending his free time pouring over.

O . . . O . . . O

"Okay, here's the thing," she regarded me with speculation, one small hand cupping her full hip as she stuck it out. "You have got to lighten up, Thane!"

We stood outside her apartment and I was eagerly anticipating what she had planned for the day. Before a transport was hailed, she stopped me, turned me around to face her, and looked me up and down, lips pursed with thought.

"What?" I frowned in confusion.

"Do you always stand like you have a stick up your backside? Relax!" she laughed and pushed down on my shoulders causing them to slack. When she was satisfied with my drooping posture, she grabbed the small, lidded basket she had resting on the ground and beckoned me to follow.

"Where are we going?" I asked as we headed for the transport terminal.

"You'll see," she grinned.

We stopped at the city park where she led me toward a wide patch of grass surrounded by tall flowering stalks. She unfolded a blanket onto the grass and dropped down. The basket was revealed to contain a small variety of picnic foods; kelp crisps, pickled fish fillets, sugarmelon cookies filled with sweet cream, and two bottles of water.

The small lunch wasn't filling but was some of the best-tasting food I'd had in quite a long time. I leaned back and stared up at the sky, watching the swirling clouds dance high above the iridescent dome. Every now and then a faint bolt of lightning would zip by, lighting up the gray for a mere fraction of a second. Irikah had taken to lying down, arms crossed behind her head, and quietly hummed in contentment while I answered questions about my family and what I could reveal about my career as an assassin.

"You said you liked to read?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Like what?"

"Anything that catches my interest; it doesn't have to be primarily one subject."

She sat up and reached for the basket resting near her feet.

"Here, I brought something for you," she beckoned me closer. In her hand was a book bound in dark blue fabric which she placed it on my lap and opened the cover.

"It's an Asari mythology book; one of my favorites. I'm not all that deep into the religious aspect of it, but the philosophy is amazing! I thought that you might like to borrow it, since you'll be here in Vashta City for a while. Unless you're not, but still; you're more than welcome to read it. If you want," her voice fell into a hush.

I smiled and nodded in thanks to her generosity.

"Oh, I have to show you this one bit! It's wonderful! There is this story about the goddess Athame and how she drew the first asari up from the bowels of Thessia, painting them the color of the sky so they could be closer to the heavens…"

I watched her rapidly flip through the pages before stopping on a block-printed image of the asari deity standing high over the small, naked bodies of the cowering mortals. My hand covered hers and I marveled in the gentle heat from her soft skin. I looked into her eyes and watched as her dark lids fluttered with adoration. She was close enough I could feel the warmth of her breath against my face.

"My mother always warned me about boys like you," she whispered.

My hand lifted up to touch her jaw. The striated skin, a muted brown-orange, was as soft as silk. I drew my thumb over the marking at her cheek, feeling the fizzing of anticipation burn in my blood.

"Is that so? She warned you about Compacted agents?" I teased.

"No," she smiled and drew herself closer, clutching to one of my shoulders. "She warned me about handsome boys who turn out to be really sweet."

Our lips brushed and I had to restrain myself from crushing my mouth against hers. I didn't want to ruin this moment with my clumsiness and aggressive behavior; I wanted to savor every little nuance, create the most powerful memory I could possibly manage.

"May I?" I breathed.

I could feel her chuckle vibrate against my lips. "What are you waiting for?"

With her permission in place, I began to kiss her as softly as I could. I drew in a deep breath and smelled the feminine perfume on her veil mixing with the aroma of freshly cut grass. She sighed as she deepened the embrace, opening my mouth fully to her. The taste of sugarmelon and salt danced against my tongue. I had never been kissed with such passion and I didn't want to stop anytime soon.

When I finally pulled away I felt my throat tense with a purr. Irikah ran her fingernails up my neck and pressed her forehead to mine.

"Did you still want to read that passage?" she asked softly.

I closed the book cover, set it aside on the blanket, then drew her close once more.

"It can wait."

I kissed her again.

Just before my curfew ended, I escorted her back to the apartment and bid her a good evening.

"I'd like to see you again, if that's alright," she smiled as she wove her fingers between mine.

"I would like that very much, Siha," I agreed.

She laughed her typical bright, musical chuckle and shook her head.

"Siha, is it? Oh, I should've listened more to my mother's warnings. You're going to get me into so much trouble."

I regarded her in slight confusion and wondered if she regretted spending time with me.

"I wouldn't want to anger your family with my presence…"

"Thane," she placed a finger over my lips to silence me. "I love my family, and my mother is a very wise woman. But I don't always listen to what she says."

I kissed her one last time before leaving for the hotel. When I reached my room, Omir was standing by the door waiting for me.

"I am sorry to interrupt your evening, Sere Krios," he began and through the haze of my joy I could feel the cold shadow of anxiety begin to creep back into my soul.

"What is it?" I asked and showed him into my room.

He sighed heavily and opened his omni-tool, activating the small holoscreen against the wall. There were images of the bombing destruction as well as the voice recordings of a young man declaring war on the Illuminated Primacy.

"We will NOT be held down any longer! The Drell shall rise up against the tyranny and forced servitude and show these goo-bag Hanar that we are superior in every way! They saw us as vulnerable once long ago, and they took advantage of our desperation. Why should we continue to allow them to make us into slaves, to have our children taken from us and brainwashed into criminals with the excuse of 'for the good of Kahje'? We are not weak; they are! We will no longer bend to their supposed dominance! We shall become masters of our own fate, take back the freedom we so deserve, and become rulers of Kahje! The Hanar will then be OUR slaves! _Aellorah tarfal! N'yah esseh dra'lafah! _The Uprising begins! We are never forgotten!"

The vid stopped playing and I sank down onto the bed, staring at Omir in question.

"We found the person responsible for the bombing. He is one of Velda's followers; a young man around your age who works as a paralegal in his father's advocacy firm. There were whispers that the supremacists were planning the attack for years under her tutelage. We had hoped her assassination would've ended the activity. It seems that it only stunted it for a little while. But we can't let this stop us, despite the fact that there's no actual structure for the Special Ops division at the moment. We can't let them do this again. Next time it could be the Primacy Hall or maybe even a civilian establishment such as ship docks or a theatre."

He opened the console on the desk and showed me the file on the bombing suspect. My guts seized when I recognized the face. Twelve years had changed him somewhat but as I looked into his eyes in the holo I was immediately taken back to my first day of school. I could smell the soup he spilled on the floor, felt the fear of being hurt by his hands. I heard his cruel laugh as he taunted me.

"Ellam," I whispered.

Omir nodded solemnly and closed the file.

"I knew you attended school with him, and while I had suggested to Folly that another assassin be given the task of eliminating Sere Yalik, he is convinced that only the best should be utilized; meaning you. However, if you wish to refuse the job due to personal issues…"

"Where is he?" I asked and felt the numbing calm of my Battlesleep take over the rush of emotions I had been allowing to breech.

"Oh!" he blinked in surprise. "You are accepting the contract?"

"I am."

In preparation for the task, I was given a new stealth suit, a small artillery of weapons, and a larger room which allowed me to exercise without restraint. I contacted Irikah to let her know that I would be busy for a few days. Her response was simply "Be careful".

I was transported to New Rakhana to begin my search for Ellam. A small part of me wanted to find him unaware and, in some strange way, seek revenge for being so terrible to me all those years ago. But my better, and logical, judgment, spoke volumes against what was left of the young boy who had been hurt. This was just another job for the Primacy, not a personal vendetta.

The first place I started looking was the advocacy firm his father owned. During one evening, while I quickly infiltrated and scouted the office, I placed several untraceable bugs throughout the main offices in order to catch any bit of information about where I could locate him. I doubted he returned to work after the events; statistically, most criminals who fell under Ellam's pattern hid in a remote place. In some circumstances, family is told where they are in confidence. I hoped that this was the case.

On my way back to the hotel I stayed in during my hunt, I passed ground zero of the fallen headquarters. Construction teams had already begun to tear down what little structure was left leaving a pile of indiscernible rubble made of concrete and steel in the middle of the large square pit. Holographic police tape bordered off the area, keeping the public out of the wreckage.

Standing next to me was a young man dressed in modern human-styled clothes. I was curious why he was there but decided to remain silent.

"It's scary, isn't it?" he spoke up. "You think everything is just perfect and nothing bad will happen, then…" he threw out his hands and shook his head. "That's when shit happens."

I didn't respond but I certainly agreed with him. Nothing can ever stay balanced for too long before chaos feels the need to throw the cosmos out of order.

I watched as he sat a black candle near the edge of the caution tape then moved his lips in a prayer to Kalahira before standing back up.

"I had a brother in there, you know. Good man. I didn't get to talk to him much, but…" he bit down on his lip to keep the tears I could see building up in his eyes from falling. "I hope they find that fucker who did this and skin them alive. Gods know that's what I would do if I ever had the chance."

I pulled out a handkerchief I had kept in an inner pocket and offered it to him. He smiled warmly and nodded in thanks to my offering.

"Time to go drink myself into a stupor. Thanks for just, well, just listening, I guess."

"Good evening, Sere," I said and watched him walk towards the edge of the city where a few popular nightclubs stood.

Moments later, after mentally repeating what the stranger admitted to me, I left for the hotel and waited to gather information on Ellam. Nothing significant was captured that day so I decided to investigate his family's home.

After another bug was planted outside the house, I found a dark corner around the back and waited. At first, nothing significant was said until…

"Ellam contacted me," a female voice said sadly. "I told him that we wanted nothing to do with him and he should turn himself in to the authorities."

"The firm is going to start asking question. And then if this is released to the public… I don't know, Jalyah. No one is going to want the services of the man whose son bombed a government building and killed hundreds of citizens; despite us being good, law-abiding people. I don't know where we went wrong with him!"

"I've wondered that myself."

After a moment of silence, the husband spoke up, announcing that he was stepping outside for fresh air. The back door, near to where I was sitting in the shadows, opened and Sere Yalik stood on the small concrete patio, overlooking his small section of property. The sound of the ocean just beyond the edge of the dome was the only sound for several long minutes.

"I don't know who you are, or what faction of the Primacy you're involved in, but I'll ask you this; please, leave us out of this mess," he spoke up. "My wife and I, we're staunch supporters of the government. But our son, I don't understand. We had no idea he had such views."

I glanced up to see if he was talking through a communication device but there was no amber glow to denote that fact.

"He's not here at the moment. But, since you've already got my firm and my house bugged, I can alert you the next time he makes contact. Yes, I know what you did to my home and my office; I worked with private investigators before and know the equipment they use. The more I can give you to lead you toward Ellam the sooner I can try to go back to a normal life, if that's ever going to happen."

He grabbed a pen from a pocket, tore off a leaf from a nearby bush, and began to write on it. The leaf was turned down onto the edge of the patio.

"That's my personal contact line, but I'm sure you already know it. You can call tomorrow at this time and if I know anything I'll tell you. You'll get nothing but cooperation from me and my wife."

When he walked back into the house, I quickly grabbed the leaf and took off for the hotel.

The next day, just as he had asked, I contacted him via the number he wrote down and I asked if he had heard from his son. I was given the location of a small residential building where Ellam had contacted his family from. My inclinations were that my task would be easy, so I armed myself with nothing more than a low-powered pistol. I even checked out of the hotel so I would be forced to return to Vashta City when the deed was done.

When I arrived at the building, I was surprised to see several others inside carrying high-powered rifles and wearing thick plate-armor. Obviously, I was not prepared to deal with a small militia, and the sight of the amateurs with their collection of weapons made me spit a curse under my breath.

I easily spotted Ellam; the young man was pacing nervously around the room and snarling at anyone who had stepped in his path. I had to figure out a way to eliminate him, but an unsettling feeling filled me that there would be more casualties than I wished. There was only one way to end this task; I had to kill everyone.

The battle was brief but violent. I was able to take out the first two mercenaries, replacing my pistol with a rifle. Loud shouts warning Ellam to run faded against the barrage of gunfire. Three more mercenaries, one of them was, to my surprise, a human, ran toward me. Three shots of my own stopped them, but not before one of their bullets slammed into my right knee. The pain was searing hot and had me stunned for a brief moment.

There were two more mercenaries guarding a closed door; rifle barrels were pointed directly toward me.

"Yield!" one cried out.

My knee throbbed. Each time I attempted to move my leg the pain ripped up my leg. I lifted my rifle, prepared to shoot them, when one of the mercenaries shoved a dagger directly into the other's skull. The look of shock on the dead man's features stayed locked on his face as he dropped to the floor. I was helped off the ground by my apparent ally: he offered me a short bow before he slung his arm around my shoulders.

"He's in there," he pointed to the door.

I was helped to my feet, holding my breath as a new wave of acute agony stabbed my leg.

"Who are you?" I asked, skeptical of his loyalty. I kept my gun pointed toward him in case he decided to attack me.

"No one. Just realizing that I'm about to be dead if I don't submit," he ran for the exit and away from my sight.

I hobbled to the closed door and forced it open, using every ounce of my willpower to ignore the injury.

Ellam was sitting at a cluttered desk, holding a pistol in his hand. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped open.

"Thane Krios?!" he whispered in disbelief.

At the sound of my name the Battlesleep weakened and I felt my purpose begin to falter. I was suddenly five again and trying not to cry over my ruined lunch. Once, I was terrified of him, but now he was shaking in terror at my presence.

My sense of guilt was suddenly overcome by the recent memory of the IP Special Ops headquarters tumbling around me. More than half of the residents and workers had perished in the bombing, and the person responsible for the crime was only a few feet away staring at me with the same fear I once felt for him. Any normal person would've simply called the authorities and handed him over for judgment.

But I was far from any normal citizen.

He began to rise out of his seat, a faint smile pulling on his lips.

I lifted the rifle back up to my shoulder and, without a single blink, I fired a shot straight into his head. The blow caused him to jerk back and fall to the floor. I dropped the rifle, bent double from the pain in my leg. The omni-tool was flipped on where I captured an image of Ellam's death mask before I contacted Omir to inform him of both my injury and a need to get out of the city.

I had to get away from the building before the police showed up. Despite my association with the government, I couldn't allow word to get out that the Primacy was utilizing assassins even though it was a military-based tactic to remove threats. My station was considered "Top Secret" and couldn't be revealed to the public.

Omir contacted me back after I limped away to a dark alley. I had nothing more than a handkerchief and my small knife to serve as a make-shift first aid kit. As I read his message I dressed my knee with the cloth, shoving some of it into the exit wound.

"I cannot send a transport to you. And, unfortunately, we cannot utilize any hospitals for fear of compromising your purpose. Due to the situation, and the fact that you shouldn't even be out in the field, I'm not even sure we can contact the government at this moment. Can you find private medical assistance?"

It was unorthodox, of course, but I immediately thought of one person who could've helped. I grabbed a transport and programmed it for my destination back to Vashta City. Hours later, the car pulled up before the small apartment complex, and I used what little bit of energy I had left to climb up the steps and knock on the door.

Her bright amber eyes widened in shock and her hands flew up to her mouth as she gasped.

"Irikah, please help me," I whispered and dropped to the ground.

I felt her warm hands gently touch my poorly treated leg and heard her groan in dismay. The world spun in my dimmed sight before I fell unconscious.

*edited by n7gvlvr*


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

I was lost in between reality and the realm of disorientation from my high fever. I shivered beneath the blanket draped over my chest while she examined the wound. The look on her face certainly wasn't pleasant; lips pursed and her eyes narrowed with open concern. She shook her head and hummed a low, cautious sound.

"You need a surgeon. I don't think I can do much for you."

"No!" I shouted and felt my head rattle from my chattering teeth. "No- no hospitals. No paper trails. N-not supposed to b-be out."

"I'm not sure what to do, though. I'm not a doctor; I'm just a lab worker."

"Anything, please," I begged. "J-just don't t-take me to hospital."

Her touch was cool and gentle despite the agony my knee experienced. She warned me of the water she was about to clean my knee with. I could feel a rush of liquid pour over the wound, soothing at first then burning like a forge fire in my bones. As I cried out she apologized profusely. She took a closer look at the wound then shook her head as she cursed.

"Enkindlers' Breath, Thane, I think your kneecap is, it's not even there! What happened?"

I fought the surge of pain and the hallucinations of monsters clawing at my skin.

"Sh-shot," I mumbled.

I heard her sigh heavily and felt the sofa shift as she stood up.

"Ridiculous; putting the government on hold but sending you out with some kind of secret mission, and then when something goes bad they won't help you? I like the Hanar just as much as the next drell, but…"

"No one was supposed to kn-know."

"Well, you certainly ruined that little detail by knocking on my door just a few minutes ago, didn't you?" she returned carrying a small first aid box. "Spilling all your little secrets to a girl you barely know. How do you even know that I won't turn you into the police?"

I stared into her eyes, looking past the visions of anamorphic shadows and denizens of my nightmares, and reached out to touch her soft yellow cheek.

"T-trust you, Siha."

She attempted to hide the smile growing on her lips by scrunching her young face into a scowl.

"Alright, then, but don't say I didn't warn you, Handsome."

She informed me that she would try to do what she could but couldn't guarantee that it would heal me. I agreed to any kind of help she could give. A bit of cloth was stuck into my mouth to bite down upon while she dug into the wound in search of shrapnel. It was excruciating, but I continued to hold to my consciousness. That was, until she accidentally scraped her tweezers against a bit of exposed bone. Unable to stay alert, I passed out once again.

When I awoke my fever had diminished and the pain went from debilitating to a harsh throb. I turned to thank her, sensing a warm presence at my right, only to see that it wasn't her sitting nearby.

"Omir!" I attempted to sit up but found that if I moved the terrible sharp jab in my knee returned.

"Rest easy, Sere Krios," he said in a calm tone.

But I couldn't. I suddenly felt very afraid for Irikah. What would the Primacy do with her since I divulged highly sensitive information?

"Where is she?" I asked, looking around the small apartment living room with open anxiety.

"Sana Fenar is fine. She's in her bathroom washing her hands. I tried contacting you on your omni-tool, which she answered and told me where you were. I apologize again for placing you in this unfortunate position…"

"Unfortunate!" Irikah spat as she returned to the room. "I have this poor, young man nearly dead on my furniture because of whatever in the Abyss you forced him into, which he said in confidence wasn't even legal, and you didn't even consider that something bad could've happened! Look at him!"

Omir's face broke into a regard of surprise.

"It's true, yes, Sana, this was a case that was, at the moment, off the record, and you shouldn't have been involved at any cost-"

"But I am now. He had nowhere else to go, so he came to me. Do you treat all your Compacted agents like this, as some kind of expendable tool?" she scolded. "I suppose I am to be arrested and held in prison because I could contain knowledge that might compromise the Primacy's military or whatever part of the government you represent."

Omir stared speechlessly at her.

"Don't hold her accountable," I pleaded. "I put her in this position, she shouldn't be punished."

"You, shut up," she pointed a long fingernail toward my nose. "You, Sere Well-Tailored Suit, will find anyone who can clean up and repair his knee because this is beyond my knowledge. Bring them here, if you must, because, according to him, you told him no hospital, which is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. You may use my bedroom to perform the procedure. I'd offer you access to the lab, but I'm afraid something could be accidentally contaminated, either him or our tissue samples, so don't even bother requesting for that! Just do what you have to, because either will have his leg amputated or he dies if you do nothing."

Omir slacked his jaw, perhaps to respond to her, but quickly shut it when the same scowl she shot at me that very first moment I saw her was directed at him.

"What in the Abyss are you waiting on?! Go!"

Still silent, he stood up and, after bowing to Irikah, left the apartment.

With a sigh of exhaustion, she sat down and handed me a glass of water. I drank it down, perhaps too quickly, and dropped back onto the sofa cushion.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently.

"Like my knee's been shattered by a rifle round," I joked snidely.

"Well, I did all that I could. There were a few pieces of metal and a lot of dirt and infection. I cleaned out what I could see, but that still isn't enough. You need proper surgery to repair your leg."

"I could never repay you for everything you have done for me, Siha. You saved my life," I reached for her hand.

Her delicate fingers wove between mine. She moved to the sofa, cradling my head on her lap, and began to stroke my frill. The touch was intoxicating, immediately lulling me into an ecstasy-like calm.

"Just promise me that if they do try to send me to prison you'll get me out in some way," she teased.

"Of course," I agreed. "I would do anything for you."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," I heard her softly laugh with cynicism, a technique I learned that she used to ignore how flattered she was.

"But, I would," I turned my head to gaze deep into her eyes.

She smiled and stroked my brow.

"You still feel feverish. You should try to rest because you're going to need it," she sighed again and hummed to herself. "Silly handsome, old-fashioned assassins and their promises."

Moments later, Omir returned with two field medics who claimed they could use a nearby physician's office to perform the surgery. As I was tied to a stretcher, I watched him bid Irikah a good evening before turning to leave.

"Oh, no, you don't!" she shouted and grabbed his arm. "You're not going to just drag him off after I spent all this time trying to keep him from ripping his leg off and then tell me that I'm just supposed to stay here and wait! I'm coming with you."

"Sana Fenar-" Omir began to protest.

"Go on and tell me my job is done; because as far as I'm concerned, I'm not leaving until this whole mess is finished! And don't you dare say that none of this is my business! I am now emotionally involved, thanks to your carelessness!" she shoved past him and stood next to my stretcher as tall as she could.

Omir sighed and waved to the medics to continue.

The ride to the clinic was short, but in that time I wondered if I would end the night without my right leg. I tried not to listen to the whispers from their lips, but I did overhear how extensive the damage looked. "Bone grafts," I picked up from the conversations. They would have to regrow my knee cap, but that was only if the rest of the damage was repairable.

Irikah continued to hold my hand until she was politely asked to leave, and I was suddenly afraid.

I was placed under deep sleep during the procedure. My dreams were distorted visions of recent memories. I watched the Primacy headquarters shatter like fine glass as I ran through the walls; stabbing deep under my skin and into my bones while I screamed for help. Dark and twisted versions of my family and co-workers crept around me and laughed in glee as I bled before them. I tried to escape, attempted to outrun their approach, but the ground beneath my feet began to dissolve. It finally disappeared and I plummeted into the warm waters of the Encompassing, gasping for air and drowning in a sea of shadows and death…

When I woke, I discovered I was back in my hotel room and dressed in clean linens. I felt drugged, my brain was slow to process information, but the pain was actually manageable. A pang of regret, for not telling Irikah my gratitude for her kindness and for defending me, settled like a lead weight in my gut.

"I wouldn't move around too much if I were you," a soft voice warned me and my heart skipped a beat. "Despite my chosen career of dealing with what could be considered revolting by most, because of tissue samples, I do not have a strong stomach. If you vomit then so do I."

"Oh, Siha, you're here!" I breathed in relief.

"I wouldn't let them take you without me coming along to make sure you were alright," I felt her weight sink into the bed. "So, they gave me a shiny new security pass and made me some kind of public liaison with Omir on the condition that I don't ever say anything about you and what you do. Like I was going to do that anyway! I value my freedom at the moment, so prison isn't an option."

"My leg…" I reached down and felt the tight tension in my guts stop when my fingers slid down past the thick bandages over my knee and touched the flesh of my lower leg.

"The surgery didn't take long," she informed. "They were able to take a piece of bone that had been shattered off your femur and reconstruct a temporary knee cap. You'll probably need it replaced another time, but for now you'll be able to walk. After you recover, that is."

I glanced over at her and took her hand into mine, stroking the soft skin.

"You shouldn't want to be near me. Your mother's correct; I'll only get you into trouble."

"I like you. And you intrigue me. It also doesn't hurt that you're rather attractive," she teased with a crooked smile.

"You're beautiful," I murmured, the statement escaping my unfiltered mind.

Her neck and cheeks flushed dark and her eyelids fluttered. It was quite intriguing to see the shyness breach her somewhat brutally honest surface.

"You're high on painkillers."

"Yes, I am," I nodded and regretted the motion. The room began to spin and I had to grip to my pillow to keep from feeling as though I was going to fall off my bed. "But what does that have to do with how I see you?

"I never asked if you were with another."

"I'm not," she said quietly.

"I was hoping you would be interested in me."

"Interested?" I watched her lips twitch to hide the smile that was trying to grow.

"Romantically."

"Do you really think that it's appropriate to be discussing this particular subject now? I mean, there are probably guards just outside the door, listening to everything that we say-"

"Then I shall shout that question, because, quite frankly, I don't care if they are listening. I have nothing to hide," I allowed a purr of affection to echo from my throat.

"Thane…" her head shook and she continued to blush.

"I adore you, Irikah. From the very moment I saw you shouting in anger at me I knew you were someone incredible and I was desperate to meet you, if it was only for the briefest second. The fact that you let me near is overwhelming. You are waking me up from a numbing sleep I've been lost in for many long years. And the more I see around me, the more I want to share those moments with you."

"You make me sound like I'm some kind of immortal," she mumbled and turned away from me shyly.

"I would be honored if you would allow me to stand by your side as your partner for as long as you wish it. And, if not, I shall never trouble you with my presence again."

When she turned back to me, her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. The warm smile she had been trying so hard to hide finally graced her face. She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to my lips.

"I suppose I can give you a chance."

Happily, and ignoring the sudden jolt of pain zipping down my leg, I sat up and met her with an embrace of my own.

My injury took longer to heal than I predicted. The amount of damage caused by the bullet ripping through my kneecap was quite substantial which kept me from walking for a couple of weeks. A week later, after the emergency care, another surgery was scheduled to replace the temporary "kneecap" with a freshly grown specimen. Irikah visited me as often as she could and brought me many books to read along with paper and new pencils to pass the time away, but when she was around I completely ignored anything else besides her.

When I was finally able to walk, with the assistance of a cane, I was introduced to her friends. They treated me with warmth and respect, even teased us a little which caused her to giggle and hide her face behind her hands. When I was asked about my injury, I simply told them I had an accident on a wave skidder. No one, that I was aware of, had any inclination I was a Compacted assassin.

One evening we dined at a fine restaurant on the edge of the Encompassing. Our conversation was cut short for a few moments when we watched a human man kneel before a lovely asari and proclaim his love to her, asking for her hand in marriage. As she accepted, a polite round of applause came from the patrons.

The scene planted a thought in my head, fed by the ambiance, the wine, and the secret love I felt for Irikah. I wondered just how long it would be before I was doing the very same thing. But if I continued to be an agent for the Primacy I didn't stand a chance of having any kind of life with her. She deserved someone who would devote their life to making her happy. I didn't think I would ever be anything more than just a fair-weather romance.

We returned to my hotel room, slightly inebriated from the glasses of wine drank during our meal. My knee was aching from the extra walking. I flopped down onto my bed, wincing in pain, but too happy and too tired to care much.

Irikah sat down next to me and forced my pant leg up to inspect how my leg was healing, much to my feeble attempts to stop her. She slapped my hand away and gently touched over my knee with fascination.

"It looks good, as far as I can tell. You'll have a sexy scar to show off," she teased.

"Do you find scars attractive?" I smiled.

"I find you attractive, so, by proxy, I suppose."

Carefully, she rolled my pant leg down then curled up against me.

"I have it figured out now," she said softly, her golden eyes darting down to stare at our clasped hands. "When I first met you, I wanted you to be some kind of misunderstood villain, a wayward soul; but the more I got to know you, and know the real person behind all this rough exterior, I began to realize that you're no dark persona without an individual thought. I misjudged you."

"You should never apologize to me, Siha." I whispered. "I am exactly what you thought of me."

"No, you're not. We're taught that heroes are these great, god-like beings with the power to smash our enemies with a flick of their wrists and rescue the rest of us with a smile. And that's not right at all. The real heroes are those who are willing to go to the darkest voids, hide in the shadows, and bear the burdens of this world without a single person knowing it. Someone who will perform deeds that most of us would shrink away from in absolute fear. And that's you."

"An assassin is no hero," I shook my head. "I am nothing more than a weapon."

She regarded me for a few, silent seconds before leaning in to kiss my lips. I held her tight to me, feeling her breathe in deep. Her fingertips drifted down my chest to unbutton my shirt.

When she stopped, I gently removed her veil and drew my hands up over her delicate crest. Her eyes fluttered shut as she sighed and leaned into my touch. I was so desperate to tell her how I felt, but I was forced to remain silent when she kissed me deeply.

We were intimate that night, and, while things were rather awkward, I had never felt so liberated. Her arms wrapped around my waist as we lay curled against each other. She rested her cheek on my chest, her head tucked perfectly under my chin. I nearly fell asleep, reeling from the natural high of the activities, when she spoke. Her words had caused my heart to skip and my soul to soar with joy.

"I forgive you," she whispered, and I smiled until I drifted into pleasant dreams.

*edited by n7gvlvr*


End file.
